


The Ashen Alliance

by AstoranEleanor



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Background Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, M/M, Mercenary My Unit | Byleth, Minor Original Character(s), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slow Burn, Spoilers for Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstoranEleanor/pseuds/AstoranEleanor
Summary: After his father accepts his old position as Captain of the Knights of Seiros at Garreg Mach monastery, Byleth ends up leading his father's old mercenary group rather than teaching. However, all mercenaries need work, and between his new duties, helping foil the Flame Emperor's plans, and fighting a gang war on behalf of the shadowy Yuri Leclerc, even the Ashen Demon has his work cut out for him.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 27
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey to anyone reading this! Since this is my first time actually writing a fic, it would be amazing if you could leave a comment or two with any constructive criticism since I'm aiming to improve over time. 
> 
> Warnings/Tags will be updated as they become applicable.

Watching the retreating backs of Kostas and his remaining soldiers, Byleth did his best to calm his breathing. Normally he wouldn’t have to break much of a sweat when dealing with such low-level bandits, but it definitely wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that these weren’t normal circumstances.

It wasn’t the sudden appearance of the three teens who had come tearing into their camp like Red Wolves were on their trail, or their plea for help against their pursuers, or even his father’s strange reaction to their uniform of all things. While all of that had been unusual and definitely curious, his generally calm and collected demeanour still won out over his mounting confusion.

It was safe to say that hadn’t lasted long.

It was a credit to his acting skills that he had managed to keep his stony-faced expression from slipping for so long, especially after the incident with… Sothis.

Sothis, the little green-haired ghost girl who apparently lived in his brain and gave him the power to thwart death. Byleth fought a twist of the lip as he contemplated just how crazy he might be. The being he’d been dreaming of for as long as he could remember had now taken on a place in his waking thoughts as well, and although he had only had the one conversation with her, (which had mainly consisted of her chastising him) it was definitely a different experience than their previous communications. Talking to her before had felt like any other dream, with that same sense of simply watching yourself act instead of determining your actions. In that way, it had been easy to brush off the girl as just another figment of his imagination.

But throwing himself in front of that girl in red (Edelgard, he’d learned from her companions), had changed all of that. Why, he had no idea, but the end result was the same in that he had done things that no ordinary person should have been able to. He had felt time shatter like it was made of glass, and had seen and heard Sothis make the claim that she could piece the shards back together again with a wave of her hand. Had felt her power flowing through his veins as she did just that, until he was back where, but not when, he started.

After that it had been pure instinct as to what he had to do, his years of experience as a mercenary taking the reins from his reeling brain. Kostas’s blow was fast and powerful, yet with the knowledge of how he would strike before he actually did, it was as easy as disarming a novice in the camp training ring. Byleth supposed that a lot of battles in history could have ended differently on the same principles, but now wasn’t the time to contemplate that.

A shouted greeting from the boy in the yellow cloak, Claude, announced his and his companion’s arrival. Both boys were speckled with mud and blood, but thankfully looked none the worse for wear, which was surprising given their age. Byleth had been sure that they had signed their own death warrants when they had broken away from the main group to corner a couple of errant bandits, but it seems like they had more experiences with their weapons than their age would suggest.

By then his erratic breathing had thankfully returned to normal and he had been able to keep his face carefully neutral, but that didn’t do anything to combat his father’s questioning look as he stopped his horse beside him. Byleth knew his father wouldn’t doubt his own son’s capabilities for a second, but a side effect of fighting beside someone for your whole life meant that you got to know their fighting style and capabilities like the back of your hand. Jeralt’s eyes were already narrow with questions, which Byleth was sure he wouldn’t be spared from after they were back at their camp.

“Hey…Did you just…”

Fortunately, the arrival of a band of knights in silver armour on the edge of the battlefield provided a suitable distraction for both of them. Byleth couldn’t stop a chink from forming in his expressionless mask as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. Why on earth were there knights here, so far out from any fortresses? Looking to his father for answers only raised more questions as he saw the look in his eyes that meant he knew something. Jeralt only wore that particular expression when he was thinking about his mysterious past, and Byleth had long since given up on trying to pry answers out of him about it.

Even though they were still a good distance away, the voice of what Byleth presumed was the leader of the knights carried easily over the field, although the words were lost to the wind. However, it seemed to be an order for his subordinates to give chase to the remaining bandits, given how the majority of them did just that after their captain had finished talking. Still, it was clear as day that between Kostas’ head start, the knights’ heavy armour, and their apparent lack of cavalry, it would be an easy escape for the thieves.

Seemingly unperturbed, the captain and the few remaining knights were now making a beeline for their mismatched group as fast as their heavy armour would allow, their captain’s voice now discernible as he hailed them.

“The students seem to be unharmed!” Ah, so the three teenagers were students, that would explain the uniform- but what schools were there around here? Byleth cut off his train of thought as the man addressed him and his father. “And…who’s this?”

Jeralt’s response raised yet another question to add to the pile. “Ugh…Why him?”

* * *

Yuri detested having to do Lady Rhea’s dirty work.

Sure, he knew what he had signed up for when he agreed to enter into her growing network of covert operatives, and it wasn’t like he was going to quit working for her- after all, she and the other central church higher ups were the only checks on Aelfric at this moment in time. However, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t complain about being sent to spy on a group of teenagers.

And that’s all they were really- teenagers, even though one or two of them were just older than him. The pampered sons and daughters of the nobility or wealthy merchants who were shipped off to school and got the luxury of learning to fight comfortably, instead of learning that lesson the hard way on the streets like the majority of kids in Fódlan. The way he’d learned.

The overnight exercise was one of the simplest offered at the monastery; a way to ease these soft children into the lives of soldiers by introducing them to the reality of a military camp, of cooking and cleaning for yourself and putting your own roof over your head. And although some of the kids he’d been charged with watching had completely lived up to his expectations, (a girl with pink pigtails and a green-haired boy who just napped under a tree the whole time came to mind) a surprising amount seemed up for the challenge of the life of a soldier.

However, surprisingly hardworking they may be, they were still bratty teens- most of whom probably had very little experience of life in the real world. Therefore, he and several of his mockingbirds had been stationed in the forest bordering the students’ camp to report any straying students or... unacceptable activity... to the knights. The church couldn’t have their precious charges wandering off and being eaten by bears on their first night, after all.

Yuri crossed his arms against the cold and let out a huff of air that misted around his face. It was nearing the end of his shift and he was damn glad about it, as he definitely needed to get at least a couple hours sleep in before he started attending to his duties in Abyss. But that wasn't even the worst part of it- the thing he really detested about this work was that since he needed to keep his working for Rhea from Aelfric, that meant deceiving the Ashen Wolves too. As much as he’d hate to admit it, they had become his adopted family since they’d ended up in Abyss together, and he hated keeping things from them, despite how often he was forced to do it. Simple lies such as telling them he was away on Mockingbird business when Rhea wanted him working were effective but weighed on his conscious nevertheless, and it would only take a simple lie uncovered to risk his friends losing all their trust in him. That was a chance he didn’t want to continue taking.

The cracking of a branch to his left jolted him out of his thoughts. Letting out a two-tone whistle to call any of his gang nearby to attention, Yuri shifted in his place among the branches of a leafy elm in an attempt to see whatever made the noise.

The distinct sound of student voices quickly put his mind to rest, although it was unusual for them to come so far out into the woods. However, when the students did wander into view a few seconds later, it became clearer as to why.

The Black Eagles house leader for the year, Edelgard von Hresvelg, strode into view, closely followed by Prince Dimitri and Claude von Riegan, the other two house leaders. It would make sense that the three would want some privacy to scope out the opposition- after all, they would likely be dealing with each other for the rest of their lives, given their future titles. All of them were carrying bundles of kindling in their arms as they talked, and Yuri took care to steady himself amongst the branches, straining his ears to hear their stilted conversation.

It seemed that the Golden Deer leader, Claude, was filling in the yawning gaps in the conversation left by his peers. “Your highness,” he started, although he somehow made the honorific sound more mocking than anything “all I’m saying is, you don’t have to be so serious about a camping trip. This is practically the last hurrah for anyone who’s still not accepting the fact that they’re going to be expected to work at this place.” He accentuated his point by using his free hand to gesture to Dimitri’s almost comically large pile of sticks. Yuri had to admit to himself, as the ghost of a smile twitched against his lips, that the guy had a point.

However, Dimitri seemed to take a very different view to his companion. “Claude, while we may not be being graded on an exercise like this, as a house leader it’s still important to rally your house behind you on such a simple task.” He paused to shift the weight of his load. “If you can get your house to work together now, it will make teamwork in later missions much easier when such a skill may be essential to your survival.” Yuri agreed with some of this sentiment as well, but it was still a disappointment to learn that the last surviving member of the Kingdom’s Royal Family and the last shred of hope for his birthplace was such a damn killjoy.

While the two boys continued to bicker, Yuri turned his attention to the only member of the trio who hadn’t yet weighed in. The Hresvelg princess lead the group with a slow and careful attention to her surroundings while the other two unthinkingly trailed in her wake, occasionally picking up a stick to add to her pile. While any average person might see her and marvel at her regal poise, even when helping with such a mundane task, Yuri could see her violet eyes- an exact mirror of his own- calculating and plotting with each step she took.

This year would be interesting, he could feel it.

A shout from Dimitri turned everyone’s attention in his direction, Yuri already scanning the forest floor for threats.

_Dammit._

He was stunned in utter awe for a few seconds. Bandits, charging through the treeline.

Why were there bandits _here _, at the foot of the mountain that was home to Garreg Mach monastery? What bandit leader would be dim enough to lead their men straight into the stomping grounds of the Knights of Seiros, and who would be stupid enough to follow?__

Below him on the forest floor, Claude had been the first of the three to move, dropping his bundle and taking off through the forest, with the other two only taking a split second in deciding to follow him, weapons in hand.

It wasn’t the biggest company of bandits he’d ever seen, sure. Twenty, maybe thirty men had charged after the fleeing teens. But they were all strong, muscled, and brutal, going by the way they moved despite their heavy weapons, and three kids alone with barely any training would be dead meat if the knights couldn’t catch them.

Not bothering to think about concealing their presence anymore, Yuri dispatched the messenger stationed in the tree to his right with a hurried shout of “GO!”. Then, he was down from the tree and racing after the bandits, his Mockingbirds all following his lead with grunts and curses.

His head was clear as he pursued the bandits through the trees. While he may do more warlike posturing and threatening than actual fighting while leading his gang, he was always in more than adequate shape to do so if necessary. It would be a terrible embarrassment and loss of prestige for him if it turned out that the Savage Mockingbird couldn’t live up to his name, after all.

Despite his calm, the practical absurdity of the situation meant that several thoughts remained lodged in his head as he ran. The presence of bandits this close to Garreg Mach. The fact that they all chased after the three students, despite not having a way of knowing their important identities. And the fact that the students were running away from the knights dedicated to protect them. All of these he filed away to address later, now he had to focus on ensuring that Fódlan still had leaders in the near future.

After what could have been minutes- or hours- of running later, it seemed like their targets were only getting further away. It took a surprising amount of effort to keep the bandits in sight, and he could tell without turning around that his men would be starting to lag behind- they were used to relying on stealth and ambush attacks, after all. Yuri gritted his teeth. He would have to keep running and keep the bandits in sight, who for some reason were not turning around to attack whoever was chasing them. They would have to keep up the chase, keep the bandits busy once they stopped, and wait for the Knights of Seiros to arrive. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it wasn’t like he had the power to do anything more at the moment. There was no hope of stopping to shoot the bandits without losing them, and there were no magic users in their group apart from him- and he’d probably have to stop to concentrate at his relatively low proficiency. He’d have to get Balthus to give him some pointers sometime, as weird an idea as that was to entertain.

Yuri kept running.

* * *

It wasn’t long before the trees began to thin, signalling their opening up onto the wide plain surrounding Remire Village. Yuri had to admit, whoever out of Claude, Edelgard and Dimitri led them here had a good head on their shoulders; relatively big villages like Remire often had at least a partial wall around them and a rudimentary village militia to keep out unwanted guests. If they could get inside the gates, the bandits would surely think twice about attacking.

However, as it turned out the students wouldn’t even have to think about cowering in the village, as they found something, or someone, even better to protect them.

They really had hit the jackpot this time.

Yuri could just about see them in the distance- three specks darting under the banners of a mercenary camp just outside of the village boundary, and the bandits skidding to a halt further back, seemingly apprehensive about attacking a camp that seemed about three or four times their size at least. Despite this unlikely chain of events, it wasn’t until the first rays of sunlight illuminated the orange and white shield insignia of the banners that he truly marvelled at the luck of the royals, who had just stumbled straight into the camp of _Jeralt the Blade Breaker._

Coming to a stop just inside the treeline, Yuri called for his gang to do the same. Although some looked as if they were about to ask him why they had stopped, the questions in their eyes melted away as soon as they caught sight of the camp. He didn’t think there was a single person on the continent that didn’t know those banners.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for a small force to exit the camp and head for the bandits, and even less time for the rest of the mercenaries to take up defensive positions around the camp. Yuri watched the skirmish with bated breath. He could see a mounted fighter who he was pretty sure was Jeralt himself cutting through enemies with a marked efficiency that made his heart rate increase like he was taking part in the melee with him. The three house leaders were also fighting along with the rest of the mercenaries, who mostly consisted of lance or axe fighters, except for one notable exception.

And what an exception they were. While he had been focused on Jeralt himself for the majority of the fight, he turned his attention to the lone sword fighter of the bunch, who was leaving a trail of bodies behind to rival the Blade Breaker’s. Yuri blinked in confusion as he studied the figure further, clad in an iron-black cloak that whipped around him like the wings of a raven. As he watched, the fighter pulled his sword free of the chest of one bandit and met the blade of another in a single fluid movement that practically screamed of a level of control and level-headedness on the battlefield that was difficult to find, even in experienced fighters. _No. _It couldn’t be. Those noble brats weren’t so lucky that they’d bag two legendary fighters in one camp, were they?__

“Goddess above.” Muttered a man to his right. “It’s the Ashen Demon.”

It was a ludicrous idea, an absolutely insane concept that one of the strongest and most mysterious mercenaries alive was travelling in a group with one of the only others of the same calibre, who had just so happened to show up exactly when they were needed to save the students.

And yet, when the man’s partner voiced those exact thoughts that Yuri had just entertained, he found himself speaking up without hesitation. “No doubt about it. That’s him, _damn _, and I thought the stories were exaggerations…”__

The second mockingbird turned to him with a mixed look of fear and surprise. “Boss?”

The only answer Yuri gave him was a smile. This was going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Although the more junior of his men had been more than a little irked at leaving before the skirmish was over, they quickly relented once Yuri reminded them who they were talking to. It wasn’t like Yuri was purposely intimidating towards them, but it was well known that insubordination wouldn’t be tolerated for long among the ranks of the Mockingbirds. He would let this incidence slide though; it was taking some effort on his part as well to turn his back on the two living legends, but it was clear what the outcome of the battle would be, and staying any longer wouldn’t give them anything new to report. Besides, Rhea would have heard the news by now and would be wanting an eyewitness report as soon as possible. Yuri could picture her, usually the very epitome of serenity and grace, tearing her hair out at the potential disaster for the church’s reputation.

Yuri sighed as he trudged his way uphill, not towards the winding main road that led to the monastery gates, but towards a rocky crevice nestled some way around the side of the mountain. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation he was soon going to be having with her Grace. While he had the excuse that the events of today were entirely unprecedented, and his men did everything in their power to de-escalate the situation, it still happened on his watch as the leader of the covert perimeter guard. The surprise appearance of the mercenaries likely not only saved the lives of the house leaders, but his own as well, since the three territories would be baying for blood at the simultaneous loss of all three heirs- and he would be the most likely scapegoat in that situation. He suppressed a shudder in front of his men; he had been under the shadow of the church’s noose before- after his expulsion from the academy- and it had only been Aelfric’s intervention that saved him. He didn’t think he’d be so lucky to escape the same fate twice.

At least by bringing the archbishop some good news he could lessen her ire towards him, especially as the existence of Abyss depended on her oh so benevolent charity.

They had reached the entrance of the crevice set into the face of a sheer cliff before them, dizzyingly high but only wide enough for two men to walk abreast- and Yuri knew from experience that the further back you went the thinner it got, until it could barely fit a single man walking sideways. It was this feature that discouraged any would-be explorers, and was what made this disguised entrance into Abyss one of the most useful he’d discovered.

The early-morning sun behind them did little to warm the cold stone they were scrambling over, but it’s light had just enough reach to illuminate the roughly carved stone steps that led up to a natural tunnel about halfway up the side of the crevice.

He called for a torch from one of the people carrying the emergency supplies, and after some swearing and shuffling around in the limited space, one was pressed into his hand. Despite the wan rays of sunlight, it was still better to be safe than sorry; a spill on these steps would likely require a level of healing magic that he didn’t yet have the proficiency for. It took a few seconds and some concentration on his part, but it didn’t take long to have the torch lit with the power of Fire- it was the most basic Reason spell after all, even if it had taken Hapi the better part of an afternoon to teach him.

As their group continued shuffling up the steps in the wake of Yuri’s torch, he idly remembered what Hapi had pointed out about the crevasse the last time they’d been here- that it was made over millions of years, the stone eroded by an ancient river that had long dried up. Even the tunnel they were headed towards had been made by an underground river that had eventually escaped the confines of the mountain to join up with its over-ground counterpart. Almost definitely some lost wisdom from her village in the mountains, although she didn’t say as much out loud. As outlandish as the theory seemed, it made sense to Yuri after he thought about it for a while, although he’d long since stopped questioning how her people knew so much about the world in the first place.

Shaking himself out of his wandering thoughts as he reached the top of the steps, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder to check his men over before ducking into the low tunnel that led to Abyss. After all of them had filed into the narrow space, he set off at the head of the procession again, although the atmosphere had definitely changed now they were back under solid ground. Yuri could understand; the underground was a safe haven for many after years of persecution above the surface, and many of the residents of Abyss associated going up top with an inherent danger. The Mockingbirds began to break off into small groups, chattering excitedly about the night’s unexpected events in a way that was more befitting of the schoolkids they had been assigned to watch over rather than the members of a feared gang. The familiarity among this particular group of the gang was comforting to Yuri- many of them had been with him for years, and this particular group came out with him whenever he had work to do for Rhea- they could be trusted not to sell his secrets to Aelfric. In many ways they could be considered his inner circle, along with the Ashen Wolves, and he was as fiercely loyal to them as they were to him.

One of his soldiers, a brigand-class woman of Empire origin, fell into step beside him as they wound their way through the network of tunnels, giving him a knowing look and lopsided grin that indicated she had something to say to him.

Yuri was dirty, tired, and wanted to do nothing but sleep for a day- but he supposed he could spare some energy for small talk.

“Out with it Theda, what do you want to bug me about?”

Theda’s crooked smile only widened at his resigned tone. “I’m only surprised that you didn’t stick around to meet your hero earlier, rather than running off back to the archbishop like a bashful maiden.” She paused for a moment to start unbraiding her blonde plaits “Yeah, I know you’ve got to report to ‘her Holiness on High’ up top, but Jeralt the Blade Breaker? The _Ashen Demon_? Don’t tell me that’s not a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Instinct made Yuri’s eyes dart to every place in the shadows a figure could be hiding as soon as Theda referenced Rhea, despite knowing that they were alone in the tunnel. “ _Do not_ talk about our work for you-know-who while we’re under this mountain.” They were alone, but the paranoia that seized him took a few seconds to ebb away.

The brigand’s only response was to continue playing with her hair, unbothered by his harsh reprimand. A long-suffering sigh escaped Yuri’s lips before he could stop it. He couldn’t be bothered to pursue the issue any further- besides, she was always sensible when she needed to be, so it wasn’t a huge problem.  
  
“What, you’d just want me to swan right up to them in the middle of battle and start begging for autographs? We were part of a covert operation if you hadn’t noticed. Rushing the battlefield could have provoked an attack from both sides in the confusion of battle."

“Anyway, I wouldn’t speak too soon about not seeing those two ever again.” The return of Yuri’s more mischievous tone of voice earned him an askance look from Theda. “The Knights of Seiros and the best mercenaries around walk onto a battlefield- I’d wager that they’re going to at least be invited back to the monastery in an attempt to recruit them- the Knights aren’t scrupulous when it comes to getting new blood after all.”  
  
“Hmm, I suppose that makes sense. You don’t exactly refuse the Knights of Seiros without making a powerful enemy, after all.” The last part was said with some bitterness, and it was Yuri’s turn to give Theda a questioning look; that comment only strengthened his suspicions about why she came to Abyss, but she continued before he could get a word in edgeways “Well, if you’re so sure they’re coming back then I should probably go and freshen up- who knows, they may be looking to release some _tension_ after the battle.”

Yuri suppressed a snort of laughter “I know he may be a great soldier, but isn’t Jeralt _old_? He’s been a household name for as long as I can remember, and he would have had to have built up his skill for years before that as well."

“All the stories still say he’s ruggedly handsome, even the recent ones!” She gave an over-exaggerated pout before she continued. “Fine then, what about the Ashen Demon? None of the descriptions say he’s old, or bad looking or anything.”

He gave himself the luxury of a short laugh at his friend’s absurdity “That’s because there _are_ no descriptions of him besides ‘terrifying’ and ‘emotionless’, you madwoman. Part of the reason he’s so intriguing is because no one knows anything about him”.

Theda was laughing now too. “Oh, so you admit he’s intriguing? Now that’s an interesting way to describe a man I’m pretty sure you’re obsessed with. I mean really, Yuri, the _Ashen_ Wolves? I know Rhea officially named that little group of troublemakers you call a house, but I’m willing to bet that you had a hand in the name somewhere as the founding leader."

Yuri had no response to that except a distressingly juvenile “Oh shut up.”

Their conversation was cut off by their emergence from the tunnel into Abyss proper, onto the grand bridge that connected that part of the tunnel system to the residential area and the assortment of market stalls the residents had scraped together. He turned to address his men.

“Goes without saying that what we did tonight was confidential.” A reminder wouldn’t hurt, especially given what they witnessed “And I don’t want to hear about a single one of you telling anyone about what, or who, you saw. If anyone asks, we went down the opposite side of the mountain, capiche?"

The order was followed by a chorus of “Yes boss!”

“Good work, despite the circumstances, anyway. Dismissed.”

The Mockingbirds began to disperse, except for Theda, who wasn’t through with their conversation judging by the glint in her eyes. Yuri waited for everyone else to leave, snuffed out his torch, and then fell back into step with her.

“I won’t deny I admire the man.” Started Yuri “But I think obsessed is a little strong; he’s a good fighter and leader, something I’d say we have in common. You admire Jeralt just the same.”

“I never even said anything! Okay, you’re getting defensive about this. Like weirdly defensive.” She put on a mockingly sweet sing-song voice. “Is there anything I should know about, Yuri?”

Keeping his stare straight ahead, he replied “Whatever you’re implying, the answer is no, I’m afraid."

They had reached the end of the bridge, and Yuri could see a figure clad in the Ashen Wolves’ uniform holding a distinctive purple fan despite the draughty air, blocking off their exit into Abyss.

“What the _hell_ does she want after the night I’ve had."

Theda let out one last unrestrained laugh before slipping away from him to head home. “Have fun delivering your report! If I manage to seduce the world-renowned Ashen Demon in your absence, I’ll let you know.”

Despite the obvious attempt to get under his skin, Yuri couldn’t help the surge of annoyance that passed through him at the words.

* * *

Although he wouldn’t trade it for the world, it sometimes surprised Byleth at how…unbalanced his upbringing had been. He had explored nearly every scenario, situation, or possibility to do with life on the road or in a military camp, but as they entered the gates of Garreg Mach Monastery to see the bustling town within, he realised that he had almost no experience with settlements larger than a village. The practical side of their job was limited exclusively to the countryside, and for negotiating with clients, Jeralt had avoided urban areas at all cost for some unfathomable reason, preferring to discuss terms in his own camp or occasionally at his client’s manor or fortress. Byleth had only one distinct memory of going to a city- he could vaguely remember visiting a faraway place with his father when he was very young, young enough to be filled with wonder when he kicked the snow lining the streets away to reveal the pretty patterns on the pavement beneath. It filled him with the same childlike sense of wonder to see how crowded and busy the streets of the monastery town was, although he didn’t outwardly show it; confidence, even if faked, was just another one of the weapons in his arsenal he had been trained to wield.

And although his father had been chatting away amicably enough on the way here with the boisterous knight from earlier, Alois, he hadn’t forgotten the cornered look in his father’s eyes as he had agreed to return to the monastery. Byleth knew to keep his weapons close in times like these, even if that didn’t mean his sword or dagger.

_'We should have been on our way to the Kingdom by now.'_

The stray thought was unusually mundane in Byleth’s head at this point, between the backlog of questions, mounting worries, and the occasional interjection of Sothis- you know, the girl who lived in his brain. At least the Kingdom job was one thing that could be crossed off the list of things to sort through; before they had left, Jeralt had sent a message for his second in command and a contingent of mercenaries to detach from the main camp and attend to the job without them. The rest of the camp was to stay put and wait for them until they returned.

On his left, Dimitri and Claude were now talking to each other in hushed voices that betrayed their tiredness. Despite only having met them a few hours ago, Byleth felt like he’d known them for much longer than that by the amount of themselves they’d shown him in the time they’d had together. Dimitri, a stalwart gentleman who had kindly offered to show him around the monastery on the walk back, and Claude, a mischievous yet remarkably astute boy with an easy smile. Edelgard walked alone further off to his right, eyes unflinchingly on the looming monastery and face devoid of any expression. The sight was unnerving given the backdrop of relieved chatter among the Knights- was this how people felt about _him_ when they said he was unnervingly emotionless?

Despite his earlier observation, it was clear that there was more to each house leader than met the eye. The boys both wore their masks well, but the brutality he’d seen thinly veiled as impressive strength told Byleth something about the darkness under the surface of the Prince of Faerghus. As for Claude, Byleth wasn’t buying the carefree attitude with which he carried himself; the joking plot to win Byleth’s favour on the way back to the monastery spoke of a mind that could and would use such schemes if the opportunity were ever to arise.

Edelgard wore her mask the best, however. So well in fact, that Byleth couldn’t see the real her beneath it- save for her calculating stare. In fact, most people wouldn’t have been able to tell that she was acting as anything but herself- but Byleth knew better. Not many wore their masks better than him, after all.

With the aid of the knights clearing the streets, it didn’t take long for them to enter the monastery grounds itself. Byleth had never seen a bigger building in all his life- the holy place seemed to dwarf the mountain it was built on despite being made from mortal hands. Elegant stone buildings, ponds, and gardens littered the complex, ranging in shape, size and apparent function. It seemed like the monastery was an independent city in its own right, with even more people- a mix of priest and pedestrian- lining the pathways along their route.

Or maybe it wasn’t normally as busy as this, as a large majority of the gathered crowds seemed to be doing nothing but staring at them, most people letting out excited whoops as their party approached, others whispering to each other from behind their hands. Scores of people lined the balustrades of nearby buildings and walls, and even those who did seem to be working paused to watch them go by. Byleth watched as Dimitri called out to two boys, one short with tousled grey hair, the other much taller with a darker complexion and a face like thunder, both leaning over the battlements of one of the fortified walls. As soon as they caught sight of Dimitri, the taller boy’s expression cleared into one of quiet contentment and the grey-haired boy let a relieved smile cross his face, waving at them as they passed. 

Although no one had told him outright (Edelgard had been interrupted when she tried) it hadn’t exactly been difficult for Byleth to realise the identities of the teens before him from their words and actions, not to mention the reaction of the crowds to their appearance now. If it hadn’t been for convenient timing, the future Emperor of Adrestia, King of Faerghus, and Grand Duke of the Alliance would have been butchered by bandits. The disarray Fódlan would have been thrown into would have been immense- Byleth didn’t even want to think about the consequences that would have brought to the continent- and it was clear that the gathered onlookers felt the same from their delighted cries at the sight of the house leaders. 

By now they’d reached the end of the road leading up to the huge double doors that were open to show what he assumed was the entrance hall. As he was about to press on into the monastery to follow the knights and the house leaders, Byleth stopped at the press of a hand to his shoulder.

His father was standing stock still, staring up at the sky with a dark expression. Following his gaze, Byleth could just make out a lone figure on the highest balcony of the monastery, but at that distance all he could make out was their green hair and white robes, the rest was lost to the distance between them.

"Rhea’s here.”

Rhea. So that was her name. Byleth spared another look at his father, who wasn’t doing anything to hide the distaste he felt for whoever was up there. Who was she to them?

And why did he feel like he knew her from somewhere?

* * *

Byleth and Jeralt stepped outside into the courtyard by the main entrance just as the sun was nearing its apex in the sky. Their meeting with Lady Rhea had been nothing short of fascinating, even if her presence made him…uneasy for some reason. It had felt like there was something stirring within him at her melodious voice- like she was someone he’d forgotten and he was just on the verge of remembering.

Jeralt’s voice pulled him from his reverie. “After all these years convinced I’d left for good, I’d never have thought I’d take up my old place as captain again. I guess some things are just meant to be.”

“Why are you so passive about this?” It truly was an odd response from the most stubborn man he knew. “If you want to leave then no one can stop you.”

Jeralt put a hand to his head and let out a weary chuckle. “It was unexpected, sure. But I’m not so opposed to the idea of working here again. It was never in the plan to become a mercenary either, but sometimes life gives you a hand and you’ve got to make the most of it.” Byleth still let a small frown pass over his face. It was still unlike his father to be so complacent, unless his history with this place ran deeper than he realised.

“Besides, I only think Rhea can deal with one rejection of her generous offer to us.”

Byleth’s eyebrows drew further together at the vague answer. “And what do you mean by that?”

His father turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a small smile in response. It was a sincere smile, unlike the quirks of the lips that had been involved in the exchanging of pleasantries with the archbishop and her adviser, or the uncomfortable grin his father had worn when being talked at by Alois on the way here. Byleth could see the fondness in his father’s eyes and it warmed his heart to know it was there, although he’d never admit it to anyone else.

“I mean that I’ve spent too long raising you in secret, away from people, for the archbishop to sink her claws into you now. I won’t ever let that happen as long as I live.”

“Father…” Direct expressions of emotion wasn’t usually how they communicated, and he could feel himself getting the tiniest bit choked up at Jeralt’s words.

Not letting go of his shoulder, Jeralt turned to look over the grassy plains surrounding the mountain, in the direction of their camp.

“I can’t be the Captain of the Knights here and the leader of our mercenaries at the same time. I’ve already made my commitment to the church, but I’d hate to take you away from the life you love. You’re a skilled warrior and a leader people will fight for- everything I could’ve wanted for you. I can’t think of anyone better to take over leading our little band of mercenaries.”

The words took a little while to sink in for Byleth. He’d never even thought about working without his father there besides him- it was a part of life he’d never expected to change for some reason. And… the mercenary company that his father had built from the ground up on his own strength and charisma… he couldn’t just _take_ it from him.

He opened his mouth to say something before closing it again. He’d never been good with words, but here they failed him completely. Even if he could choke out a response, he had no idea what to say. No idea what he should do. Should he accept and leave his father here, resigning himself to the service of a woman he clearly disliked? Should he demand his father come back with him?

“Before you say anything, this is something I’ve been thinking of for a while now. You’re more than ready for this. And returning here… I left because the memories of this place were too painful to bear, but those wounds have long since scarred over. I’ll never truly get over losing her, but I feel closer to her here than anywhere else…”

Byleth felt himself stop breathing as his father spoke. He barely ever talked about his mother, and his voice had taken on a fragile, dreamlike quality that he’d never heard him use before. He feared that if he interrupted him, the spell would break and he’d never hear anything about his mother again. All he knew about her was that he’d inherited a lot of her looks, and that she’d died shortly after his birth. Anything else was kept buried deep in Jeralt’s memories.

A few beats passed, and his father elaborated no more. Considering the spell broken, Byleth began to marshal the words of a response together in his mind.

“I… I would be honoured to lead them for the both of us, if that’s how you feel.” Jeralt noticeably relaxed at that, but Byleth wasn’t finished yet. “But I won’t leave you to do it. If you’re going to stay here, then so shall I.”

His father opened his mouth to begin to protest, but Byleth cut him off mid word. “I’ll keep out of reach of the archbishop, if that’s what you want, but this is my one condition. Most mercenary companies keep a permanent base somewhere rather than wandering all over the continent like us. I’ll set one up in the town here, and we’ll travel as needed to our jobs.”

“Fine, if that’s the only way you’ll accept, then I guess I have no choice but to agree.” His head was turned away, but Byleth could still see the corner of a small smile on his father’s face. He raised his hand to wipe something away from his eye before turning back to face his son. “Our reputation will ensure you’ll have no shortage of clients even if we settle down, and this central position is probably the best to travel from. Fine, then. Congratulations on your promotion, kid.”

With that, his father swept him into a rare hug, and they stayed like that for a while, enjoying the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended this chapter to be longer but I've restarted it several times and I'm due to go on holiday soon, so I thought it would be best to get it out sooner rather than later! 
> 
> I can't believe we're three chapters in and the main characters still haven't properly met- but writing this fic has shown me that I'm a pantser, not a plotter, and when I get writing a chapter my original plan never translates well into words so I just end up going with the flow. I PROMISE they'll meet next chapter though, and hopefully it'll be worth your while :)

Despite the fact that he was learning faith magic, Yuri didn’t often think about the goddess of Fódlan. However, as he sank into the hot spring and submerged his aching limbs in the warm water, he couldn’t help but send up a quick prayer of thanks after the week of hell he’d endured.

There weren’t many things about the actual place of Abyss that Yuri actually liked, but the discovery of a series of underground hot springs was definitely one of them. A practically endless amount of hot water was a luxury that not even the richest of the nobility had, and the practical benefits it brought were indispensable. A truth of Yuri’s life that had been proven to him several times over was that poverty and starvation walked hand in hand with disease- the plague that had struck his village all those years ago and had almost condemned him to the burial pits being the most prominent reminder- and a ready-made place to bathe helped to stave off any future outbreaks. It also helped the people of Abyss take a little more pride in themselves to be clean- pride was one of the most important things to have when you have nothing else, after all.

This was one of the smaller pools scattered throughout Abyss, and as a result it tended to be more private than the rest. True to form, it was currently empty apart from him, and although he hadn’t said or done anything to encourage it, he was also pretty sure that other people avoided it when he was there, which he appreciated. Although everyone’s life underground was hard, his responsibilities were stressful to say the least, and some relaxing time alone in the hot springs were sometimes the only thing he looked forward to after a long day dealing with the gang, or the church, or the Ashen Wolves.

It was down to all three of those reasons that he was had paid a visit to the springs today, the universe seeming to want some sort of cosmic payback for his chance encounter with the mercenaries earlier that week. Just as he’d predicted, after his return from the battlefield the archbishop had engaged him in a one-sided shouting match, and then had assigned him and the Mockingbirds extra work for the church as ‘penance’ (although Yuri just called it ‘taking advantage of people who can’t refuse’). On top of that, the Wolves had been relentless this week in demanding Yuri’s attention. He loved them, but recently he’d had no time to help Constance with her experiments, or spar with Balthus, or stargaze with Hapi.

Neither of those reasons would be a suitable justification for his current level of stress though. If it had been just those then it would have still been a tough week, but manageable. No, the real reason was that gang activity in the area was on the rise, and not because of the Mockingbirds.

Yuri shifted on the natural ledge of the pool until everything below his neck was under the surface of the water. Resting his head on the folded towel behind him, he stared up at the steam curling towards the ceiling without actually seeing it. The Mockingbirds were a unique gang in every sense of the word- created to protect, not to intimidate or fight. They didn’t participate in turf wars- the knights would never allow them to expand beyond the confines of Abyss, and they served more as an unofficial peacekeeping force in Abyss than anything. Yeah, the place was still pretty lawless, but people did what they had to in order to survive. The Mockingbirds just made sure no-one went beyond that.

However, the actions of several people with prominent Scorpion tattoos had recently been highlighted to him by his surveillance squad. From his research, they were part of a powerful gang originally from Enbarr, being allowed to grow through the mismanagement of a string of incompetent and corrupt emperors before branching out all over Fódlan. At first glance, it would seem that they were trying to set up a base here, maybe as a safe house bridging the gap between the more far-flung branches of their organisation, but their actions contradicted this hypothesis. They had been slinking around in the shadows seemingly doing nothing, which was the first oddity. They must have known of the presence of the Mockingbirds, yet they gave up every element of surprise they had, even being noticed (and subsequently pursued) by the church guards at times. It was possible they were taunting Yuri, waiting for him to make the first move to protect his territory or testing his strength- possible that they were relying on the church to eliminate the Mockingbirds for starting a gang war before moving in themselves. However, the church only allowed the existence of his gang because they had a firm hand in their actions through Yuri’s indenture to Rhea. The archbishop surely wouldn’t turn a blind eye to a wholly criminal gang moving in next door.

Letting out a soft groan at the realisation, it connected somewhere in Yuri’s brain that he’d been analysing the very thing he’d come here to escape from. It was late at night after a long day, and he was shattered. Thinking any more about this now would only serve to wind him up tighter than he’d been before, which would affect his decision making the next day. He needed a distraction.

And what better way to do that than thinking about the very person that had been serving as an adequate distraction all week?

He ran over all the information he had learnt about his secret idol in the past week, courtesy of two members of his surveillance team specially assigned to watch the new mercenary captain. While that may have seemed obsessive, Yuri reasoned to himself that since the Ashen Demon was a powerful new player on the chessboard that was Garreg Mach, it was his responsibility to learn everything that would be useful about the man. Of course, that didn’t stop Theda and a few of the others giving him a knowing look when he announced his intentions at their last meeting, but his desire to learn more about the living legend surpassed any irritation he felt towards their assumptions. He would’ve gone to observe the man himself if he wasn’t tied down by his business with the Scorpions, but that couldn’t be helped. 

His name was Byleth, for a start. Yuri felt his lip quirk at the thought. It was so strange to assign a real human name to a man that some people didn’t even believe existed, and even stranger to learn that he would be living a relative stone’s throw away from Yuri in the town below as the leader of the strongest mercenary company on the continent. His father was Jeralt, the Blade Breaker, which he supposed made some sense now that he thought about it, and he had been offered a place among the church faculty along with his father, which he refused. Now _that_ was interesting. Not many people refused the church what they wanted, but it seemed that Byleth was determined to keep his stance firm; he had reportedly visited his father in his quarters inside the monastery a few times, but had seemingly taken care not to run into any other church members on the way there. The only people he had made exceptions for was the occasional student who approached him to offer thanks for his services to the house leaders. According to his men, a good few of the students were star-struck by the actions and mysteriousness of the man, even without knowing his legendary identity.

He had also shown his proficiency to lead. It had only taken a few days for the deeds to an unused complex on the outskirts of the town to come into Byleth’s possession, and then the renovation of the buildings as a mercenary guild had begun soon afterwards. It wouldn’t be long before contracts started rolling in and he would really begin to make his mark on the area.

Could that be the answer?

The thought struck him as he was running through his knowledge of the mercenary, and he took a while to stop and process it- a half formed plan on how he could deal with the Scorpions. It was typical that a possible solution had come to him on its own as soon as he stopped searching.

He sat up and tried to clear his head, the heat and humidity making his movements slow and languid. Taking a few minutes to run through all the possible consequences of the idea, Yuri eventually concluded that although there were some essential details missing for it to work, with enough refinement it was possible. Just possible.

Deciding that he had spent long enough in the bath, Yuri stood, seeing stars for a while after spending so long in the hot water. He had come here to take his mind off of the Scorpion Gang, but now he had potentially put the foundations of a plan into place, he wanted to do anything but. His weariness forgotten, he towelled himself off and dressed, his signature smirk growing as he did.

A potential plan to deal with the Scorpions, _and_ a reason to finally talk to Byleth.

He definitely had the right to smile.

* * *

The courtyard was filled with the grunts of fighting and the clash of weapons. Despite their now permanent location, it felt exactly like the training area they would set up every time they made camp on the road, something that Byleth found immensely comforting. Training was something he found he could retreat to when he needed a taste of something familiar, although he was growing used to living in the monastery town after a week and a day.

His opponent was breathing heavily after their sparring match. He was one of the newer recruits with something to prove, which was exactly why Byleth had chosen him as his sparring partner. He took a few quick steps back, circling the man under the guise of playing it defensive when he was really giving him a chance to consider his situation.

A quick glance around the large courtyard showed him that many of the new recruits were in a similar position after each being paired off with Byleth’s more experienced mercenaries. The company hadn’t had this many novices in a long time, but going from wandering mercenaries to having a fixed base had facilitated the changeover; about half of Jeralt’s company before had been permanent members, as transporting any more soldiers than that all over the continent simply wouldn’t have been time or cost effective. Instead, they would recruit temporary soldiers when required that would travel with them for a while before leaving, being promised a share of the payment and prestige for fighting alongside them. Usually they had no shortage of wandering mercenaries offering their services, and having men who knew the lay of the land wherever they were was an added bonus.

However, moving to a permanent base had meant that most of the temporary members had left, many having a family or home that they wouldn’t leave permanently, and some preferring a life on the open road to life somewhere they had no connection to. A few of the well-established members had left for the same reasons, although a great many of them had stayed, which Byleth was incredibly thankful for; their experience was irreplaceable at this time, and the camaraderie between the new recruits would increase ten times faster if they had an example to follow from the older mercenaries.

To fill in the gaps in his ranks, Byleth had sent missives to some of the temporary members of the past who had particularly impressed him, offering them a permanent position among the mercenaries, although he hadn’t yet heard back from any of them. He had also taken on quite a few fresh recruits from the surrounding towns- new blood was essential to keep a balanced spread of age and experience, after all.

While he was considering this, his opponent had recovered from his breathlessness and rushed Byleth, sword high and shield low. It was a good move for someone who had likely only trained in weapons in their spare time back in their village, and he definitely had potential. However, Byleth wasn’t looking to hone his potential today- he was looking to break the man.

An unfortunate side effect of recruiting for such a renowned force was that many of the volunteers were cocky enough to believe that their skills were already on par with that of the experienced fighters. It was his job today to personally beat that belief out of them or send them back to their villages with their tails between their legs. They wouldn’t last a minute on the battlefield as they were and Byleth would never let them until they let go of their pride and realised that they had to learn, instead of magically becoming great fighters just by being part of their group.

Byleth sidestepped to the man’s left, where his shield blocked the way for him to swing his sword. Before he could turn, Byleth delivered a swift kick to the recruit’s left knee, sending him crashing to the ground with a gasp of pain. Again, he circled the man, aiming to look like he could do this all day. Like he _would_ do this all day. He cast another glance to his surroundings as he walked, but this time to the eastern wall of the courtyard.

When he bought the complex, it was mainly for the use of the very large courtyard that would be perfect for use as a training ground. Originally, this part of the complex had been a stable before the buildings became vacant, so he guessed that the yard would have originally been used to train horses. Unfortunately, one of the setbacks of the town being on the side of a mountain was that horizontal space was at a premium, meaning the courtyard backed onto a road leading through the town on its eastern side. Added to the fact that the courtyard was a good twelve feet lower than the road, any pedestrians leaning over the wall (which was roughly waist height to them) would have a perfect view of anything going on in the yard below.

Something which a good many of them seemed to be taking good advantage of.

The recruit had picked himself up again while he had been distracted and rushed him again, this time foregoing raising his shield to prevent Byleth escaping the same way he did before. Raising his sword, Byleth stopped the swing of his opponent’s weapon dead in its tracks before delivering a brutal kick to the man’s chest, sending him flying across the flagstones to hit the eastern wall, punctuated by a collective sharp intake of breath from the spectators atop the wall.

He looked like he didn’t even have the strength to pick himself up again, leaning on his training sword for support and gulping down air like a man rescued from drowning. A wave of pity flashed through Byleth. The rest of the recruits all looked like they had gotten beat up enough as well; he’d probably end it after his opponent’s next attack. In the meantime, he raised his eyes to study the silhouettes lined up along the wall watching them practice.

In the beginning, the students of the Officers Academy had been more subtle in their attempts to watch the mercenaries train. Although they didn’t know he was the owner of the bizarre title that fireside gossips had bestowed on him, they knew him as the son of Jeralt the Blade Breaker, so he supposed that was enough to garner some attention. At first it was just one or two that he knew from his limited encounters with the students- the Fraldarius boy, Felix, had been a constant since the beginning- soon after he was joined by Dimitri, a girl with long blonde hair, and a redheaded boy. He’d later learned their names (Ingrid and Sylvain) from Dimitri, and that they were all childhood friends, so Byleth assumed that they all wanted to watch together and that would be the end of it.

However, as the week progressed, more and more students had ventured down from the monastery when they were free to watch them train. It was quite frankly getting ridiculous, and was making the novices think they were even more of a big deal than they already thought. To top off the absurdity of the situation, the number of students who regularly came to watch them had exploded in size after an uncharacteristically hot day where they were due to practise grappling. At the behest of his men, Byleth had allowed everyone to train shirtless, and by the end of their training, the number of students watching them had almost tripled in size. He wasn’t going to make _that_ mistake again.

It was during one of these disapproving scans of the crowd that something caught his eye. Although he knew very little of the students that came to watch, he at least could recognise a few of the faces in the crowd, but he was absolutely confident that he would’ve remembered if he’d seen _this_ particular individual before.

At this distance it was hard to tell whether they were a man or a woman, but there was something about them that meant Byleth would guess a man, despite his feminine features. He had a hood pulled over his face, which likely hid him from the rest of the crowd, but not Byleth, who was facing him head on. Byleth had never been a good judge of beauty, but it was clear even to him that this man could have been considered for the title, especially given his distinctive lavender hair and eyes.

Well, he _could_ have been considered beautiful, if not for the promise of danger that seemed tangible in the air around him, from the sly smile that twisted his lips to the too-casual way he was leaning over the wall, his violet gaze freezing Byleth in place like prey before a hawk. Byleth had spent his life learning to assess battlefields and pick out the most dangerous people there, but it dawned on him that this pretty man standing above him might just be more dangerous than all of the armed mercenaries in the courtyard put together.

Their eyes still locked together, the man leaned down and rested his crossed arms on the stone wall before him. The movement was fluid but it seemed to be in slow motion to Byleth. He opened his mouth to say something, and although Byleth couldn’t hear his whisper across the distance between them, he could lipread the two words just fine.

_“Watch out.”_

Their meaning didn’t register with Byleth until it was almost too late. The sounds and sensations of the real world came flooding back to him and he heard the cry of his opponent charging towards him, saw the metal glint of his dulled training sword. The man had discarded his shield and had charged him with a desperate force that in real life would either have been a last stand or a killing blow, depending on the situation.

Byleth blocked the blow from his sparring partner at the very last second, their crossed blades mere inches from his face. He fought back a growl of frustration at his absentmindedness- this had gone on for long enough.

Using their closeness to his advantage, Byleth pressed into the minimal space between them, forcing his opponent backwards to the point of losing balance before sweeping his legs out from under him in a move that sent him crashing to the floor again. This time, however, he consolidated his victory, pressing his blade to the other man’s neck in a mock killing blow.

He stood without saying anything, leaving the panting rookie on the ground and called out to the rest of the sparring pairs, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“That’s practice over.” The looks of relief on the recruits’ faces was unmistakable- Byleth had been sure to train them hard. “Rookies can pack away the equipment, everyone else can leave.”

The noise of battle was almost immediately replaced by the low hum of weary conversation as everyone went to follow his command, the man he’d been sparring with scurrying past him to join the other recruits. It looked like he'd achieved his goal with that one at least. 

Turning back to the spectators, Byleth half expected to see that the man who’d distracted him had disappeared, but he was still there, watching Byleth with his predator’s grin as the rest of the crowd around him began to ebb away. He was careful to keep his expression as neutral as ever, but he couldn’t help the wariness that was creeping across his body at the man’s presence. He didn’t know who he was or what he wanted, but Byleth wasn’t going to back down from him.

However, despite the intensity of the moment between them, it seemed that the mystery man wasn’t interested in staying any longer. Byleth watched as he dropped a slow wink and turned away from him, melting back into the crowd and becoming a shadow in an instant.

Well, that was one of the strangest interactions he'd had yet at the monastery. Byleth couldn't deny that his interest was piqued by the man, but at the same time he was also relieved to see the back of him for now. 

After all, he had an awful feeling that they’d see each other again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I did not expect that to take over a month. 
> 
> Nevertheless, I did end up rewriting this chapter several times and it has changed DRASTICALLY from the first draft- if I'd ended up posting it any earlier then it wouldn't have been something I could be proud of, but hopefully it is now :)
> 
> Please enjoy, and again, any feedback is always appreciated.

For the first few days after the mystery man’s appearance, Byleth had been in a constant state of hyper-vigilance. Several times now he had caught himself scanning the crowds for a flash of purple whenever he left the base, or keeping one eye trained on the courtyard wall when he was practising drills with his men. 

Still, with all the chaos and confusion of organising his men for their first expedition, eventually he’d had no choice but to put the man out of his mind. His lieutenants seemed to need his consideration on practically every little decision and the newer recruits were getting more and more antsy as the job approached. After the first week and a half of constant preparations, he barely had the energy to crawl into bed every night, much less worry about random strangers posing a threat to him.

Despite his tiredness, he knew he had no option but to keep up with his training- but he’d be damned if he was going to spend any more time shut up in the grounds of the Mercenary Guild than he absolutely had to. What he needed was a change of scenery, or he was going to go insane. Luckily, a drunken Alois had, quite uncharacteristically, provided a solution by extending an open invitation for him to use the monastery training grounds whenever he pleased, after Byleth had accompanied his father and some of the knights when they went drinking in town one night.

Approaching the great gates of the training grounds, Byleth let out an amused huff of air as he recalled the memory of Jeralt holding his head in his hands while the boisterous Warrior lifted up his cup of ale and shouted his ringing endorsements of the pair of them to an uncertain junior knight who seemed too uncomfortable to do anything but smile and nod.

Slipping through the gates, he could see that the area was mostly empty, a few students with free periods and the occasional church soldier were scattered here and there. Grunts of exertion and the clash of steel rang through the space, the harsh sounds wrapping themselves around Byleth like an embrace. Nothing was as good at calming him down than releasing all his frustrations through training, and now might be his only chance in a while to have a good uninterrupted training session.

Since he didn’t recognise anyone else training today, he approached one of the training dummies and drew his sword. A dummy wasn’t going to test him like a real opponent would, but he could always work on things like his form and precision without an opponent.

As he approached his target, he could see a few people surreptitiously watching him out of the corner of their eyes, but thankfully the number of people that did this seemed to be getting less and less with each passing day. It had already been over two weeks since he’d helped the house leaders out and by now the majority of people paid him no more attention than anyone else. Hopefully it would stay that way; he really wasn’t used to all the attention and it wasn’t going to be beneficial when his father had told him to keep a low profile.

He forced himself to shove those thoughts to one side; he’d come here to train, not contemplate his problems.

Starting several steps back from the cloth-and-straw mannequin, he swung his sword in arcs through the air as he approached, meeting the phantom blade of his imaginary opponent with each pass. The footwork came to him as naturally as breathing as he timed his approach, every fiber of his being focused in that moment to the attack. _Control the situation. Keep them on the defensive, give them no chance to counter-attack. Keep them intimidated._ Years worth of advice from his father that Byleth had later proven in practise guided every movement, until he was right in front of the dummy.

The distinct sound of cloth tearing filled Byleth’s ears as he plunged his sword into the dummy’s chest. He yanked his weapon free in a fluid movement, watching the straw spill out onto the dusty ground. The wound was a diagonal stab, small and precise with a matching exit wound on the other side. It was good enough, but there was always room for improvement. 

He stepped back to his starting point and repeated the exercise, stabbing into the stomach. Liver. Lungs. Every vital point he had been taught until he could feel his footsteps and sword swings turn faultless, like a violin being tuned to perfection. By the time he’d twisted his sword into his imaginary opponent’s intestines and watched the last dregs of straw join the rest of the pile on the ground, he was getting back into the mindset of training.

Byleth leaned on his sword as he wiped the gathered sweat off his brow with a gloved hand, and squinted up at the rising sun. He hadn’t intended to really exert himself today, just take the edge off his restlessness. However, practising fighting like this was always like unblocking a dam; slow at first until he felt the gratification of watching himself improve, until he couldn’t stop himself from spending hours ironing out every flaw from his form.

Now he had unblocked the dam, he approached the next training dummy in the line, fully intending to let today be another day spent dedicated to practising his sword drills. That was, until he felt a hand grip his shoulder from behind.

“I think you’ve punished those dummies enough, friend.”

Byleth instantly jerked his shoulder out of the stranger’s grip before he made any other move. Touch was inherently associated with danger in his head unless it was within a very specific set of parameters, and despite the relative safety he had living at the monastery, the habit hadn’t faded any yet. He turned around to face whoever had spoken, not bothering to hide the irritation plain in his face.

Byleth froze at the sight that greeted him as he turned. Stood behind him was the lavender eyed man, his hand was still outstretched to where Byleth had unthinkingly batted it away. He had lost the hood he’d been wearing before, and was now in what looked like a grey version of a student’s uniform with a white cloak. The man raised a quizzical, yet faintly amused eyebrow at Byleth’s reaction as he withdrew his hand, putting both of them up in a gesture of mock surrender.

“Alright, no touching, I get it. But seriously, someone with your skill should at least be fighting against an opponent that can actually defend themselves.”

Regarding him warily, Byleth couldn’t help but feel the man was laying a trap for him that he couldn’t see. There was something in those eyes, in the twist of his mouth, that made him wary of revealing too much.

“And what do you know of my skill?” He took a step back to flip his sword over in his palms, inspecting the blade for imperfections or dents he knew weren’t there.

“Oh, come on. Given that display there and who your father is, it’s clear you’d be a man who values the benefits that come with training.” He took a step closer as he spoke, his voice changing from its playful tone to something with a darker edge. “And after your little stunt with the house leaders, its clear even to the stuffy church higher-ups that you’re quite the rare find.”

Faint alarm bells had started to go off in Byleth’s head by this point. Yes, everything that the man was saying about him was technically common knowledge, but there was just a little too much confidence in his words for Byleth to fully believe that his knowledge came only from public gossip. However, before he could respond, the man had stalked a few paces down the courtyard and drew his sword, the weapon leaving the scabbard with a metallic whisper.

“But we’ve gotten off track. I didn’t come over here to debate your skill- what do you say to a round of sparring? My sword hand could do with a bit of practise and I don’t see anyone better to fight.”

Sparring? Byleth didn’t have any idea as to what the man was up to, but he was struggling to think of reasons to refuse. His instincts told him that he shouldn’t engage with this man any more than he already had, but they were muffled by the fact that the curiosity he’d seemingly forgotten had reared its head again at the reappearance of the mystery man. Maybe one fight wouldn’t be so bad, especially if it left his interest sated and allowed him to properly concentrate on the upcoming job.

In his contemplation of the possibility of the other man setting a trap for him, it seemed like he’d taken a little too long in making his decision. “Oh for the love of-” He pinched the bridge of his nose with an elegant hand. “If its so hard for you to make a decision, how about we sweeten the pot, yeah? What if we made a wager on the outcome of this match?”

“What do you suggest?” Byleth had never been a betting man, but he was intrigued about just what the man would offer, as well as what he wanted to achieve by fighting him.

“Nothing huge, just a favour owed to the victor by the loser. Sound fair?”

The bet of a ‘favour’ was suspiciously vague, but Byleth had far too many questions now and it seemed like the only way they would be answered was to fight the man. Besides, he had come here to train and he had to admit that sparring with an opponent was going to be a lot more beneficial than beating dummies to death.

“Fine. Normal sparring rules apply.” He was just going to have to hope that he wouldn’t regret this.

“Agreed.” The man flashed him a smile before getting into stance. “I’m Yuri, by the way.”

“Byleth.” He responded, taking up his own stance. He ran through his mental checklist- sword ready, feet steady in place, centre of gravity slightly lowered, breathing regular and slow.

The yard around them seemed to have come to a standstill as the moment before the fight stretched out. The constant clang of metal faded away as the dull roar of silence met his ears instead.

Yuri’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Yeah, I know who you are.” And with that, he attacked.

Byleth barely had time to bring his sword up to block Yuri’s blow, their swords meeting with a metallic clang that he could feel in his teeth. His opponent’s stance was aggressive, levering his body weight in an attempt to force Byleth to drop his weapon immediately.

According to the informal rules that governed fights like this, disarming your enemy or putting them into a position that would undoubtedly be deadly in a real fight was enough to be considered the victor, and it looked like Yuri was planning to go for the first (and easier) option. His first attack proved this; it was a good move, but Byleth could see the strain behind the wide grin on Yuri’s face- his entire body was devoted to trapping Byleth, but only Byleth’s arms were immobilised in the lock of their blades.

He made to kick Yuri in an attempt to force him off of him, but before his foot could connect, the other man had jumped back in an incredibly agile move. It seemed that Yuri’s strengths lay in fast, high powered attacks that probably ended fights very quickly- but what would happen if Byleth pulled him out of his comfort zone? What if he had to fight continuously?

Out of the corner of his eye, Byleth could see that the centre of the training grounds had mostly cleared out except for them, but he didn’t have the attention to spare to see whether that was natural or whether people were avoiding their duel. The sun was shining high above the grounds now, and Byleth could feel a bead of sweat begin to slide down the back of his neck. They hadn’t been sparring for long but he already felt that this fight was more exhilarating than any he’d fought in a long time.

Trying to telegraph his moves as little as possible, Byleth went on the offensive, carving his sword in wide slashing motions through the air, first left, then right. Yuri managed to avoid the first blow but was forced to raise his sword to block the second, which Byleth made sure to put as much power as possible into.

Yuri let out a frustrated sounding grunt as their blades met, his stance faltering slightly under the power of Byleth’s sword. He angled his blade to let Byleth’s own slide off and dodged out of range again. Byleth didn’t make any immediate move to close the gap- his strategy of exhausting Yuri through powerful attacks seemed to be working, but he couldn’t rush things lest it tire him out too.

He was starting to get a feel for Yuri’s fighting style- the timing and type of his attacks, and his reactions to being attacked himself. In one-on-one fights, knowing your opponent’s style of fighting was like knowing a dancing partner’s rhythm, and although he was by no means fully acquainted with Yuri’s, he was beginning to see the pattern in his offensive moves well enough that he was able to block Yuri’s next lunge. It was a low blow, starting from Byleth’s feet and rising to his sternum in a way that could have gutted him if he didn’t move fast enough.

An errant thought flitted across Byleth’s mind that they weren’t using training swords.

The width of Yuri’s swing meant that the only way Byleth could have jumped was backwards, and the narrow setting of his feet before he moved unbalanced him in a way that made him panic for a split second before he stabilised himself with his back foot. That was a close one- a tumble to the floor could cost him the match if he wasn’t prepared for it. Byleth gritted his teeth. There was no doubting Yuri’s skill, but he wasn’t going to lose this fight.

Yuri was panting slightly as he shrank back out of range, having exerted himself through his previous attacks. Byleth closed in, not wanting to let the other man recover any of his strength now that he was tired. He didn’t know how a simple sparring match between himself and a stranger had become so tense, but the adrenaline-fueled thrill of a close fight was coursing through his body- he hadn’t had such a good sparring partner in a long time, and he would almost be sad to end the match.

Bringing his sword up to face Yuri’s in a wide arc, Byleth still had to admire the skill in the way the man deftly parried each blow. He didn’t even begrudge him the fact that he was backing up with every move, the jolts from each connection of their blades forcing him backwards towards the far wall. Such intense matches like this were always tiring, and Byleth knew from experience that the more skilled two combatants were, the fewer blows it would take to decide a fight. It wouldn’t be long now, just one false move or slip up-

There. Time seemed to trickle through his fingers like molasses as he spotted his opening. Yuri had shifted his grip on the hilt of his sword and brought it higher in anticipation of another high blow from Byleth. If he could just get him to hold that position for long enough…

Feinting upwards with his weapon, Byleth waited until he was within touching distance of the other man to switch his direction to a rising blow, hooking the hilt of his sword around the blade of Yuri’s own and ripping it from his grip. It was a risky move that probably wouldn’t have worked had Yuri not been so tired, but his small amount of patience had paid off.

Both of them watched the sword arc through the air before landing a few feet away with a clatter. Byleth returned his attention to his opponent, quietly pleased with his victory until he felt Yuri’s hand grip his shoulder again.

Although Byleth had been concerned about using real weapons in the fight, he hadn’t received any injuries on his part and he hadn’t seen Yuri take any either. However, now that he was disarmed, Yuri was grasping Byleth’s arm for support with one hand and clutching at his left side with the other, fumbling around under his cloak. His head was pressed against Byleth’s shoulder in a way that hid his expression, but Byleth had seen enough overly-proud men and women hide their injuries in his time to make a guess at what had happened.

“Yuri,” He could feel his heart start to beat faster as he fought the rising panic within him. He didn’t care about his win if he’d harmed the other man; this was supposed to be a practise match only. No one was supposed to be hurt. “are you alright? If you need to, I can take-”

But he was cut off before he could finish. Cut off by the dagger that was now pointed under his chin, having appeared in an instant from under the cloak of his opponent. Byleth could feel the point of the blade just pricking the skin of his neck, at odds with the familiar way Yuri was still holding his shoulder with his other hand.

It took him a few seconds to process what had just happened. Looking down at him from where he had tilted his head back, away from the dagger, Byleth narrowed his eyes at the other man.

“That was a dirty trick and you know it.”

Instead of pulling the knife away, Yuri leaned closer until there was only inches separating them, his lavender eyes boring into Byleth’s own.

“Here’s a tip about me: I don’t lose. Ever. Not even to Demons.”

With a sinking feeling in his chest that his original instincts about Yuri were right, he gripped the other man’s wrist and slowly wrenched the blade away from his neck, refusing to break eye contact as he did.

The somewhat juvenile attitude comforted Byleth somewhat. It reminded him of the overeager recruits back at the base, despite the obvious difference in skill “Sometimes knowing when to lose a battle is the smartest option.”

“Not when you’ve got everything to lose.” He hid it well, but the raw tone in Yuri’s voice made Byleth pause for a moment. Maybe Yuri’s attitude wasn’t as childish as he thought.

Turning his back on Yuri, Byleth crossed the yard and retrieved Yuri’s sword from where it had fallen towards the end of the fight. The blade was old, but well cared for, and he took a moment to admire it before returning it to its owner. Yuri nodded at him in thanks before placing it back in its sheath.

“What do you want from me then, Yuri?” Byleth began. “Because between the fact that you seem to know the…nickname… I’ve been given and your desperation to get a ‘favour’ out of me, I’m beginning to think that you need my help in some way.”

Yuri cast a glance to the other people in the training grounds, most of whom had stopped watching them after their fight’s false denouement, but they were still getting a few suspicious glances thrown their way.

“That’s right, but I’m not talking about that here. Walk with me and I’ll fill you in on the details- that’s all I’ll ask for my favour. You can decide whether you want to be part of it or not.”

Byleth took a moment to hesitate again. Yuri seemed too desperate to win his favour for it to make sense for him to give Byleth the option to back out, especially with the ‘tip’ he’d so kindly given him. Going along with Yuri without knowing all the information had been what landed him in this mess in the first place, but goddess-damn it, he was invested now. Besides, there were plenty of other reasons for Byleth to hear Yuri out other than honouring their bet- there seemed to be something larger at play here, and Byleth couldn’t leave for his upcoming job without knowing that the rest of his men would be safe here at the monastery.

Despite all the previous evidence to the contrary, Byleth concluded that it couldn’t hurt.

“Fine then, Yuri. I’ll hear you out.”

The almost-predatory smile he got in response wasn’t reassuring, but there was no backing out of this now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! an update in a week is a bit of a record for me, but I'm afraid it's probably not one I'll beat since I'm going back to school soon- but this isn't getting abandoned, so don't worry about that :)
> 
> Enjoy!

“When I said I’d hear you out, I hope you realise this isn’t what I had in mind.”

Yuri gave a faint huff of laughter across the table, although he tried to disguise the quirk of his lips by raising his teacup and taking a sip from it.

When the other man had suggested they go to the monastery’s tea-gardens to have their discussion, Byleth hadn’t really known what he was thinking. From what he’d heard of the place, it seemed more suited to be the setting of a first date than whatever conversation they were going to be having.

“That’s exactly the point, you know.” Yuri took a moment to cross his legs and lean back in his chair before continuing. “This isn’t the sort of place any potential eavesdroppers would expect us to be sharing important information.”

Taking a moment to survey the garden properly, Byleth had to admit he was right. The garden was mostly inhabited by tables of students, some obviously on dates and others absorbed in whatever gossip their friends were sharing with them. Hardly anyone had spared a glance their way when they sat down, despite how out of place Byleth felt here, too engrossed in the complexities of their own lives for their attention to wander far. The high hedges surrounding the perimeter, along with the background hum of excited chatter, would make it difficult for the next table to hear their words- let alone anyone with more nefarious intentions. Yuri had obviously given some thought to where this conversation was going to take place.

But that raised yet another question. “And who do you think would be so interested in hearing this _information_ anyway?”

“Besides you?” but the mischievous tone of his voice changed into something more serious as he continued. “Quite a few people, actually, you’d be surprised. And I can guarantee that none of them would want it for any innocent reason.”

He steepled his hands together on the table. “Have you heard of a gang called the Scorpions?”

Byleth could feel himself growing more apprehensive as he spoke. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“They’re a relatively new street gang formed in Enbarr about nine years ago, right around the time when the emperor became a puppet of the prime minister.” He took a moment to take another sip of his tea. “And changes in a city’s political structure means power changes in its underbelly too.”

Nodding along to Yuri’s tale, Byleth supposed that made sense, despite his limited knowledge of politics and the criminal underworld.

“Anyway, they quickly became one of the most powerful gangs in the Empire, and now they have a presence in almost every city in the south of the continent. But now it seems they want to expand north as well, and that includes Garreg Mach.”  
  
“But surely the church wouldn’t allow a gang to infiltrate the monastery?”

At this, Yuri put his head back and laughed properly this time, which was something Byleth had not been expecting. He didn’t know why his question had prompted such a response, but he felt like he had uncovered something rare and precious upon hearing the sound. He wanted to hear it again.

“You’d be surprised. But you’re right, they wouldn’t sit by and allow this one to move in.”  
  
“Then why are you telling me about it if the church already have it in hand? And how do you know about this anyway?” If Yuri was working for the church in some way, Byleth was going to have to reassess how eager they were to get close to him. Maybe his father had been right in his paranoia.

“Calm down, friend.” Yuri uncrossed his legs and leaned forwards. “I know about this because all of this directly affects me, and I’m telling you because I don’t _want_ the church involved.”

Feeling himself lean back slightly to maintain the distance between them, Byleth knew he was getting to the heart of Yuri’s true agenda, which made him more vulnerable in some regards, but much more dangerous in others. “And why wouldn’t you?”

“Because the church can be…heavy handed… when it comes to this kind of thing. They see a threat to their control; they stamp it out. The only exceptions are when they feel like they can squeeze as much use out of something as possible before disposing of it.”

Yuri closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before re-establishing eye contact with Byleth, more intense than before.

“Underneath this mountain, there is a network of tunnels and caverns that house a community of people. Life down there isn’t good. It’s unsafe, there’s hunger and poverty are everywhere you look, and there are more criminals than in most major cities. This place is called Abyss.”

They were both silent for a moment while Byleth digested this information, then nodded for Yuri to continue. He could tell that this wasn’t the whole story.

“So, the Scorpions have apparently decided that this place would be the best base for them while they moved in- with enough men its pretty defendable, and it has a vulnerable population just ready to be exploited. There’s just one problem; the place is already occupied by another gang. My gang.”

There it was. So that was why Yuri was so desperate for his assistance. “No. Whatever you want from me, it’s a no. I’m not running my father’s company straight into the middle of a gang war. I’m not that desperate for contracts.” He made to leave, but before he could get up from his seat, Yuri had his arm in an iron grip.

“You haven’t heard me out yet. That was our deal.”

“Fuck the deal.” Byleth made an attempt to rip his arm out of Yuri’s grip, but his hold on him didn’t falter. “I’m not setting my men up to be a target, especially now that we’re here permanently.”

Yuri’s expression darkened. “Here’s how this is going to go: you’re going to hear me out just like you agreed to, or I’ll make your life a living hell. After I’ve finished, you’re free to leave with no repercussions, but not before then, capiche?”

They exchanged glares for a good few moments until Byleth slid back into his seat, casting a quick glance around to see if anyone had noticed the commotion. Once he was seated again, Yuri let go of him in favour of taking a sip from his teacup as if nothing had happened between them.

“So, as I was saying. I’m the leader of a gang in Abyss- the Mockingbirds. And before you start spouting bullshit again from your nice place on the moral high ground, know that we’re a protective force for Abyssians. There’s a lot of sketchy people down there, and we just make sure that no one oversteps certain boundaries in their efforts to survive. Even the church sanctions us.”

That last titbit made Byleth’s ears prick up more than anything else. “The church allows a gang to occupy the space right under the monastery?”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah, remember what I said about the church using things before they got rid of them? Abyss only exists because the church wanted somewhere hidden to stuff all of the poor unfortunates of Fódlan rather than actually helping them. Once the Church caught wind of us, the Mockingbirds were only allowed to remain a thing because we gave the Archbishop an excuse to not have to police the underground.”

He had to admit, Yuri’s words were having an effect on him. But now that he knew what Yuri wanted out of him, he had to remind himself not to get too taken in by the man’s story. There was no guarantee he wasn’t twisting the truth, hell, there was no guarantee he wasn’t even flat out lying.

But… there was still a small part of him that could believe that what he was hearing was true. His own father had warned him about the Church’s reputation for being morally dubious, and the part about a town under a mountain sounded too out there for someone to make up. Still, even if Yuri wasn’t lying, he was still the leader of a gang that wanted to drag Byleth into his own issues. He had too much going on at the moment to add this to his mounting pile of responsibilities.

He needed to get to the end of this once and for all. “And what would my part be in all of this?”

“Ah. _Your_ part is where it gets exciting. Luckily, the Scorpions that are trying to come to Garreg Mach are an offshoot of the main gang- sure, they swear allegiance to them, but we’re not about to bring down the wrath of the entire organisation on us if we wipe them all out.” Yuri brought both of his hands across the table to grip Byleth by the hand again, but much more gently this time. The gesture was almost…excitable… rather than threatening. “They’re sending small forces into Abyss and aboveground as well, testing how well we’ll defend our territory, but their main force is camped somewhere further out. I’m working on finding them, but when the time comes, we’ll need to destroy them before they dig themselves in any further. That’s where you come in.”

It was a decent plan, Byleth had to admit, and all of Yuri’s proposed actions came at the right time in the right way. Responding this early with an all-out attack was risky, but the enemy would be expecting them to defend, not attack. It would be easy to catch them off guard, and bringing in Byleth’s mercenaries to spearhead the attack would reduce the dangers of the plan tenfold given their experience.

But Byleth’s men would be the ones in danger instead. Even with Yuri’s remark that the rest of the gang wouldn’t care if this one was wiped out, Byleth was inclined to take that with a pinch of salt. In his days of leadership, Jeralt had been very careful about who he sided with in disputes, which kept everyone alive and in work. Byleth wasn’t going to throw away that record with the second job he took. 

Taking a deep breath, he waited a moment to organise his thoughts before responding. “It’s a good plan, Yuri, but I can’t get involved. Risking my men and reputation like this is something I can’t afford to do this early on in my career.”

“Oh, for the goddess' sake-” Yuri cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. “Listen, there are bigger things at stake here than just your reputation. Innocent people’s _lives_ are at stake, Byleth. And it’s bigger than that, right now there are forces at play at Garreg Mach that even I don’t fully understand-” But then he cut himself off, his attention seemingly captured by something over Byleth’s shoulder.

Turning around in his seat, Byleth guessed that the roguish-looking man now standing in the entrance to the garden was what had distracted Yuri. He could feel the apprehension building up inside him as the man saw the two of them and made a beeline towards their table.

Something was wrong here. There was nothing special about the man himself apart from how out of place he looked in this setting, but the panicked expression he wore and the way he looked like he’d just run a mile was making Byleth want to hold onto the hilt of his sword for comfort.

“Boss.” He addressed Yuri, between deep, heaving breaths. “Sorry to interrupt, but you’ve got to come, something’s happened.”

Yuri’s eyes flitted around the other people in the garden, some of whom were beginning to point and look their way. “Just come out with it already. You’re making a scene.”

“It’s the Scorpions- no one knows how, but they’re in Abyss- it’s chaos. The Wolves and the Mockingbirds are trying to defend against them but we’re unprepared.”

Before Byleth could get a word in edgeways (there were _Wolves_ as well now? Just how many gangs was this guy part of?), Yuri was out of his seat. “ _Shit_. Alright, I’m on my way. What’s being done about the civilians?”

Civilians. Yuri had mentioned that there were people unaffiliated with the Mockingbirds in Abyss, but Byleth hadn’t really registered it in favour of focusing on the brewing gang war. The fact that Yuri, the leader of one of those gangs, had thought about the lives of the vulnerable before Byleth had- well, he didn’t know what to think about that. He’d helped countless people out on the road before he’d come to Garreg Mach- were the citizens of Abyss really any less deserving of his assistance? 

“I don’t know, boss, I was sent to get you as soon as it happened.”

Yuri turned back to him. “Byleth-”

“I’m coming with you.” The declaration surprised Byleth almost as much as it did the other man. “I can’t promise anything on the scale you requested, but I can at least help you and the people of Abyss this way.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Yuri sounded deceptively calm, but his lavender eyes were wide, and his mouth was parted as if he wanted to say something else, before he apparently changed his mind and closed it.

This was the better way to help Yuri and the people of Abyss. It was purely defensive instead of the offensive measures in Yuri’s plan, and it only risked himself- not his men or the company. And then he would never have to see the other man again.

He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

* * *

The entrance to Abyss was nothing like what Byleth would have expected. Given the tale of bandits and criminals in hiding that Yuri had spun before, he had at least been expecting a secret entrance concealed in the back room of a tavern, or a guarded passageway that required a password to be spoken through a slot in the door. After following Yuri’s lead from the tea-garden, it wasn’t long before they had ended up in a small, disused courtyard in a ruined part of the monastery. Weeds snaked through the cracks between the cobbles and the curtains of ivy that covered the monastery had grown out of control until the whole place resembled a jungle.

Yuri had directed him to hold back the ivy on the far wall to reveal a decrepit, but otherwise normal looking wooden door, which the man in question and the rogue from before were currently forcing open.

With a grunt from both of them, the door lifted from the floor and swung outwards without even a whisper. Now that he looked closer, he could see that the hinges had been freshly oiled and the inside of the door was reinforced with metal plating. Maybe this entrance wasn’t so abandoned as he had originally assumed.

“Rest the vines on the open door. They’ll slide back into place when we close it.” With that, Yuri had drawn his sword and disappeared through the doorway and down the stone steps of the passageway beyond, the Mockingbird giving Byleth a suspicious side-eye before following after him.

Doing as Yuri instructed, Byleth ducked through the doorway himself before heaving the door shut behind him, the slam of it closing echoing down the dark passageway. The stairway was barely big enough for him to stand up straight and not that wide either, so he had to angle his scabbard carefully to draw his sword. For a moment, he reconsidered his actions; maybe he should have left the fighting to those who actually knew the quirks of the battlefield…

But there was no time for doubt. He had offered his services and surely Yuri was now concocting some sort of plan that involved him in some way- he couldn’t just duck out now, especially when Yuri had seemed so…genuine about wanting to help the residents down here.

Advancing down the steps as quickly as their steepness allowed, Byleth could hear shouts and cries echoing louder with every step he took- and the sounds seemed to be spurring the other two on, as before long they had hit a flat section of the corridor and slipped out of Byleth’s line of sight for a few seconds.

Turning back as he moved, he could see the tiniest crack of sunlight peeking in through the top of the door, beckoning him to return to the surface. But before he knew it, he had also reached the bottom of the stairs and was plunged into pitch darkness. 

He let out a noise of surprise as he bumped into something soft in front of him, before realising it was the rogue when he heard a growled “Watch it.” from in front of him. Although he couldn’t see anything, he could hear Yuri doing something ahead of them. The question of what was answered a few seconds later, as the squeak of a wooden door opening heralded their arrival into another tunnel.

Filing through into the more brightly-lit area, Byleth sensed they had arrived in Abyss itself- the tunnel looked more like a place of human habitation, lit every so often by torches and being wide enough for two carts to go down side by side. There were scraps of refuse here and there and Byleth could see the tail of a rat as it disappeared around the corner in front of them.

The other men moved off at a run down the corridor, giving Byleth only fleeting opportunities to take in the other qualities of Abyss. The walls and floor seemed to be hewn from a dull golden stone and the whole tunnel looked like it was too well put together to be intended to be a makeshift shanty town. Maybe it was constructed by the Church long ago for some purpose, but then that begged the question: just what was this place made for?

After a while more of running and several maze-like turns in their path later, the tunnel started to narrow until they emerged into what looked like an alleyway. Looking up, Byleth could see that this was a natural cavern, bisected by a wide street lined with ragged shopfronts. Alleyways like the one they were currently in snaked back from the main road in a meandering pattern, dividing more ramshackle buildings from one another.

This cavern seemed to be where all the noise was coming from, reverberating off of the high walls. Their trio emerged onto the centre street, straight into a whirlwind of activity. There were several dead bodies littering the street, all of them wearing the same tattered uniform, and moving around them were more roguish-looking men and women, all busy setting up spiked wooden barricades and distributing weapons between themselves. There were one or two healers flitting between them, tending to minor wounds here and there, and he could see two young women, dressed in the same odd academy uniform that Yuri wore, stood opposite each other on the roofs of the nearby buildings.

Yuri stalked over to the nearest body, using his boot to roll the man’s arm over, revealing a scorpion tattoo on the back of his hand.

Seemingly unsatisfied with the answers this gave him, he walked out to the centre of the chaos, and called out to the two not-students watching the scene from the rooftops.

“Constance. Hapi. Mind telling me just what the hell is happening?”

Both of them turned at the sound of Yuri’s voice, and the blond woman gave an excited laugh upon hearing him. Byleth could hear the lilting tones of a noble voice as she spoke, sounding very out of place in the squalor surrounding them.

“Why Yuri, we were wondering when you might show up! We have managed to corral these filthy invaders into Burrow Street, where we and your Mockingbirds are annihilating them before they can wreak havoc on our fair Abyss.”

“What?”

In response to Yuri’s confusion, the red-haired woman shouted to them over the din. “The Scorpions are attacking in waves. B is off leading the group that’s drawing each wave here. Me and Coco are blasting them with magic to weaken them before your gang attack them.” She paused a moment, the reduced noise on her part allowing Byleth to pick out the sound of stampeding feet growing louder with every passing moment from the general clamour. “Which reminds me, you guys should probably get off the street.”

Yuri swore, before grabbing Byleth by the sleeve and dragging him into the alley they had previously appeared from, following the rest of the Mockingbirds as they scrambled out of range of the two mages. The Mockingbird that had led them to Abyss had disappeared into the crowd some time ago, so the two of them crouched behind the corner of a building, waiting for the enemy to appear.

They didn’t have to wait long- it was only a few seconds of tense expectation before a group of Mockingbirds appeared from a tunnel mouth at the end of the street, all of whom immediately dived for the cover of the buildings before their pursuers followed them. They were all dressed in the same uniform as their dead comrades, and although Byleth didn’t have the best view from where he was crouched, they all undoubtedly had the same tattoo as well.

As soon as the majority of them had entered the street, Byleth could see the spell circles lighting up under the feet of the two women- Constance and Hapi- before tendrils of dark magic punched through the crowded Scorpions. He couldn’t tell exactly what spells they’d used, but they were both intermediate reason spells at least- nothing too flashy, but definitely serviceable, and also indicative of the potential to learn much more powerful magic.

Byleth could see a few of the invaders drop to the floor under barrage of dark magic, but the majority remained standing, albeit dazed or wounded.

“Now’s our chance.” Yuri shifted his weight in front of him, ready to leap out into the fray, before looking back towards Byleth, his face unusually serious. “Show us what the Ashen Demon can do.” and with that, they charged out of the alley, swords raised and ready to cut through the disoriented Scorpions, the rest of the Mockingbirds following their lead.

Cutting through three men in as many seconds, Byleth didn’t fail to realise the irony of his original plan for training compared to how his day had actually turned out. Few of the enemy had the strength to raise their swords against him, and the ones who did obviously had very little skill. These were mere grunts, not seasoned fighters, and he almost felt bad for them- but they were his enemy here. They had to send the message that Abyss was strictly off-limits to any other gangs, and Byleth knew from experience that violence was the only sort of language that their leaders would understand.

Across the battleground, he could see one of the few Scorpions in fighting condition approaching one of the Mockingbird men from behind, his axe raised. Byleth opened his mouth to shout a warning, knowing it would be too late but unable to stop himself trying.

But before he could make a sound, Yuri was there in a whirlwind of grey and white, thrusting his sword straight into the heart of his opponent. The man blinked in surprise, then let out a last groan before collapsing to his knees before keeling over completely. Their eyes met across the distance between them, Yuri giving Byleth a curt nod before disappearing into the chaos again.

Of course, Yuri’s speed would be perfectly suited to an environment like this, allowing him to finish off incapacitated enemies in a single blow before they had a chance to counterattack. Byleth idly wondered what it would be like to fight with Yuri against a competent group of enemies; his men mostly focused on strength and power rather than anything else, after all- the change would be interesting. 

With their strategy having payed off, it was only minutes before the last Scorpion was struck dead on the stone below them and the scene returned to the state they had found it, with men and women scurrying everywhere preparing for the next wave.

Not sure of what else to do, he followed Yuri as he climbed up the rickety buildings and towards the two mages who he had called out to earlier. As they got closer, Byleth could see that he was right in his earlier observation that they were wearing the same sort of academy uniform as Yuri, although he was sure he’d have recognised any of them if he’d seen them wandering around the monastery before. The blond girl, Constance, had a voice that would be very hard to forget, and Hapi’s flaming red hair and unusually dark skin would have made her instantly identifiable in a place as racially homogeneous as Garreg Mach.

“Yuri! Come to congratulate our magnificent efforts?” Constance trilled. Her upbeat tone confused Byleth a little; she had just been complicit in the deaths of quite a few men- surely not every teenager down here was as battle-hardened as Yuri?

“Whatever you say, Constance. Although some of the credit must go to my… new friend here.”

Constance wheeled around to face Byleth, as if she’d been completely oblivious to his presence before. “Of course, of course! And you would be?”

Hapi turned her bored gaze to the other mage. “Probably the guy Yuri-bird’s been obsessed with tracking down for the past two weeks. Great fighter, mysterious, hard to get a read on. It all checks out.”

“ _Hapi._ ” Yuri ground out from between his clenched teeth. His gaze slid to Byleth’s own, who couldn’t help cracking the tiniest of smiles at the other man’s usually unflappable demeanour coming undone. Yuri’s face morphed into a look of surprise, before Byleth realised what he was doing and schooled his face back into neutrality, turning away from Yuri.

“What? It’s not like I’m wrong. Anyway, if the rest of his mercenaries are half as good as he is, then we shouldn’t have any problems dealing with the Scorpions in the future.”

Sighing, Yuri surveyed the buzzing activity down in the street below them before replying. “Unfortunately, Byleth here won’t be able to help us the way I’d hoped. It was his own good will to come down for this emergency, but we’re on our own otherwise.”

Byleth flinched internally at Yuri’s words. His actions sounded a lot harsher coming from his mouth than they did his own.

Now he was the target of Hapi’s brusqueness. “What? So what he means is that you’re leaving us defenceless to fend for ourselves just like the Church would?”

“Hapi!” It seemed to be Constance’s turn to reprimand the red-haired girl. “While it is…unfortunate…that Byleth here is not able to help us with our endeavour to protect our home against these invaders, he is a surface dweller with no obligations to us!”

While Constance sounded like she intended to make him feel better about refusing Yuri help, the way she went about it somehow made him feel even worse than before.

Before Hapi could reply, a Mockingbird shouted up to them from the road below.

“Boss! Balthus has sent word that we should expect about two more waves- and there’s one on the way now.”

Hapi shot Byleth an irritated look that made Byleth suspect that she wasn’t through with him yet, before they all went to get back into position for the next wave.

* * *

A short while later, the last wave had been dealt with. Byleth felt like he could drop at any moment, but there was a sense of accomplishment buried under his exhaustion. Almost as soon as the fighting had finished, Yuri appeared by his side again, wiping the blood off his blade as he spoke.

“That’s the last of them. No casualties on our part, but plenty of minor injuries.” Pressing a hand to his right temple, he continued. “No doubt that was only a small scouting party sent to test our defences, and I’m not too happy with the news they’re going to be taking back to their leaders. The fact they broke in that easily makes me think we’re in more danger than I originally suspected.”

Confused, Byleth turned to him. “Did any even get away? I thought we killed all of them?”

“No, some of Balthus’ guys have reported a few slipping their net, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some more got away too. Anyway, I make it a rule to always account for survivors.”

“So, what next?”

“Next? Give me a break, we’ve only just gotten out of this mess.” He let out a small, almost hysterical chuckle before growing more serious again. “But honestly, I don’t know. Now, I’ve got to find some other way to confront them directly. Either that or involve the Church and try to find some way to protect the residents.”

The unsaid implication of Byleth complicating matters by refusing to get involved hung in the air between them, souring the mood. An awkward silence began to stretch between them, until Yuri cleared his throat and spoke again.

“I’ve got one more thing to ask of you before I let you go. Can you go and escort the civilians back to the residential district?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, friend. Hapi’s organising that part of things, so you’ll need to talk to her about it.”

Yuri gave him a curt nod of farewell before beginning to walk away, but for some reason Byleth wanted to reach out and stop him. He didn’t know how he’d become so invested in Abyss and the lives of its residents so quickly, but he felt like he wasn’t done here yet. Watching Yuri take step after step away from him made him feel like he was letting something important go, something that he’d regret forever if he didn’t figure out what it was.

“Yuri.” The other man stopped, and turned his head to face him.

“Is there not…” Taking a deep breath, Byleth tried to sort out his words without broadcasting too much of his inner conflict. “Is there nothing else I could do here?”

“Unless you plan to join the gang or accept my earlier offer, then no.”

Fifteen minutes later, he, Hapi, and a few of the Mockingbirds were on their way to retrieve the civilians from their hiding place. Their silent trekking through more of Abyss’ seemingly endless passageways gave Byleth more time to think, which was absolutely the last thing he wanted to do right now. But he could tell that everyone was too exhausted to do anything except walk, given the droop of their shoulders and their slow pace through the catacombs. Hapi was practically walking with her eyes closed, and a couple of times now she had stumbled straight into Byleth as she walked until he’d gently steered her back onto her own path.

After a short walk, they came onto another natural cavern, this one mostly occupied by a lake with a wide waterfall crashing down onto it. High above them, there was a break in the stone roof that let in the last dregs of natural daylight, the sky turning orange as the sun set. The place would be beautiful, if he had the energy to appreciate it. 

“Come on, this way.” Hapi directed him, as she began to take a narrow path skirting around the edge of the lake towards the waterfall. Byleth and the rest of the men followed, and before long he could see why they had chosen to make this particular place the hiding spot for the people of Abyss.

“A secret cave.”

The ghost of a smile twitched at Hapi’s lips. “No need to state the obvious, Chatterbox. Come on, we want to get these people home before nightfall.

The path they were on continued behind the waterfall and opened up into a good-sized hollow, big enough to fit the population of a small village, or the Abyssians. And there they were. Between their ragged clothes and their weathered faces, even he could instantly see that these people lived in the gutter of society. Sometimes his father had taken on recruits from similar backgrounds, and Byleth had learned quickly that hunger left marks on a person’s body. Sunken eyes. Hollow cheeks. A general frailty that made it painful to look at someone. All of these signs were present in these people. Most of them had perked up at the sight of Hapi and the others, and upon seeing them an old man at the front of the group hobbled over as fast as he could to talk to her.

“Is it over? Can we return home?”

Raising her voice so she was addressing him and all of the others at once, Hapi spoke. “Everyone can go home now. If you follow us, we’ll escort you back.”

At that, a tired, yet relieved chatter broke out in the crowd as they began to slowly rise to their feet and gather what little belongings they had taken with them.

The two of them let the other Mockingbirds take the lead, and then brought up the rear behind the group after the Abyssians had shuffled their way out of the cave.

“That was a clever hiding spot for them, but they would have been trapped if they were discovered.” Byleth mused, more to himself than anything.

“It’s not like we had many other options.” Hapi spoke up from beside him. “Most of them weren’t able to travel much further. This was the best we could do on short notice.”

“Why are these people here? Yuri told me a little, but…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Why would they come here if they had to live like this?

“No one chooses to live here, but you end up with no other options if you want to live.” The redhead cast her eyes to the Abyssians in front of them, and lowered her voice before continuing. “The people here are refugees. The poor. The persecuted. Some of them come to Abyss straightaway, but some end up asking for help from the Church. And what does the Church do? Send them straight here. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.” She shrugged. Byleth could sense that there was a layer of bitterness underneath her nonchalant exterior, but he didn’t know her nearly well enough to start pushing at her boundaries like that. “And now the Scorpions arrive and _this_ happens. I just want to find whoever leads those bastards and give them what’s coming to them. Haven’t these people suffered enough?”

Byleth flinched; maybe a little bluntness was what he needed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. Casting his eyes to the Abyssians closest to them, he could see what she meant. It was mostly the elderly lagging this far back, but he could pick out two children not far from the back of the group. A girl of about ten leading a younger boy by the hand in a peculiar winding pattern. Upon closer inspection, he realised that they were avoiding the sharp rocks that lined the path. Neither of them were wearing shoes.

Sighing, he made a mental note to talk to Yuri as soon as he got back.

* * *

“You’re a bastard, you know?”

Yuri groaned as he recognised the voice behind him.

“Please, Theda. I’ve just finished dealing with everyone else’s problems. Leave me to sort my own out in peace.”

She snorted, gesturing to the cut along his arm he was attempting to close up with faith magic, and then to her own arm, freshly wrapped in a sling. “You call that a problem? You’re going to think that’s a blessing by the time I’m through with you.”

Sitting down on the pavement beside him with a grunt, she continued. “Seriously though, Yuri. I’m furious with you. The only reason I’m not shouting right now is because I think I’d drop dead of exhaustion the moment I raised my voice.”  
  
“Well, you’re doing a fantastic job of it anyway.” He mumbled.

She shook her head. “The orders didn’t make sense, Yuri.” The brigand was more serious than he’d ever heard her before. “You gave the order for the citizens to evacuate this morning, before you left. There wasn’t any sign of an invasion until shortly after midday. And now you just so happen to show up with the Ashen Demon in tow?”

“...so, you noticed that, huh.”

She turned her head away from him. “The other Mockingbirds might trust you so blindly that they’ll ignore what’s right in front of them, but not me. What’s going on?”

For a second, Yuri contemplated not telling her what he’d been planning for days, waiting for everything to fall in just the right way to make his move. But he couldn’t stand lying about it much longer- and Theda at least deserved the truth.

But a shouted greeting stopped him before he could start speaking. It was Constance from the other end of the street. Beside her, Yuri could see Balthus’ hulking figure, and across from them was Hapi and Byleth.

“I…I’ve got to go. I’m sorry, Theda, I’ll tell you soon. I promise.”

She gave him one more steely look and said nothing, but he could almost hear the silent ‘you’d better’ she sent him.

Heaving himself up from the pavement, his arm wound not fully healed but closed up at least, he walked over to the rest of the Wolves and Byleth, who seemed to have been getting along pretty well in his absence, judging by the way Balthus had thrown a massive hand over Byleth’s shoulder. Yuri couldn’t help smiling at the sight of the renowned mercenary subtly shrinking away from the brawler with every chance he got.

“You guys all in one piece?”

Balthus flashed him a brilliant smile. “Nothing a few runty little Scorpions can do to the unbeatable King of Grappling! I was just telling your new friend here all about how we got those guys to run screaming down the tunnel straight to Abyss, it was a riot!”

Pressing one finger to his lips in a caricature of a thoughtful pose, Yuri couldn’t help countering him. “That so? If I recall correctly, I remember those ‘runty’ Scorpions chasing you all the way down to Abyss until Hapi and Constance saved your ass.”

“Hey, that was part of the plan, pal.”

Letting out a thin chuckle, Yuri put him out of his misery. “Yeah, I know, you did a great job too. Same goes for the rest of you guys as well.” He looked around to the rest of them. “Now I hate to sound like I’m dismissing you or anything after all the effort you guys have put in, but would you mind giving me and Byleth some room to discuss something?”

Constance looked like she was about to say something, but before she could, Hapi had already grabbed her and Balthus’s wrists and was dragging them away with a surprising amount of strength.

“Sure thing, Yuri-bird. We’ll see you later.” She sent a meaningful look in Byleth’s direction, but Yuri wasn’t sure what that was about. Just what had she and Byleth talked about on their way to retrieve the civilians?

He waited until they were out of earshot, then turned back to the man in front of them. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Byleth got there first.

“Yuri.” He stopped, like he was unsure of what to say now that he had started, opting to fill the silence by extracting himself from Balthus’ grip and taking a step forward. “I’ve… reconsidered your offer. My company’s involvement needs to be kept confidential, but… I’ll help you drive out the Scorpions.”  
  
He could have cried then and there. Instead, he took a step forward towards Byleth until they were only about a foot apart, grasping the mercenary’s hands as he spoke.  
  
“Thank you, friend. That’s a bigger weight off my shoulders than you realise.”

The other man blinked, like he was unsure about the closeness and contact, but he made no move to brush Yuri off.

“I thought it was all a turf war, originally. But seeing the place itself, the people who live here…” He sighed, his breath tangible in the air between them. “Coming here has made me realise that I can’t abandon them just because I can’t see them. I won’t ignore them.”

“There’s the hero of legend we all know and love.” Both of them shared a soft laugh at that. “But you _can_ ignore them for now, you look like you’re going to drop where you stand, and I’ve got this mess to clean up. I’ll contact you when I’m sorted here.”

“I might not be available for a while; I’ve got a job in a few days.”

“I know. I’ll be waiting when you get back.”

The other man raised his eyebrows at that. “You know? Do I want to ask?”

“Probably not, but that shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Byleth shook his head and took his hands out of Yuri’s own. “I should probably get back to the surface. My men don’t know where I am, I don’t want them sending out a search party.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you around.”

Byleth gave him a rare, tiny smile, before turning around and leaving. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's not the important chapter I promised but the wordcount got away from me- next chapter is the battle with the Scorpions so that's when things are going to heat up!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)

When Yuri had finally got Byleth’s help, he knew that he would have to be patient. The man had an upcoming job- some run-of-the-mill deal with routing some bandits in Alliance territory- and anyway, Yuri would have to wait for his spies to get him intel on the main Scorpion camp before they could make a move.

Luckily, the latter of those two problems didn’t take long to be solved, especially now that the force that had been causing them trouble had been decimated. However, it was now three weeks after the assault with no Byleth in sight, and he wanted to wait until the mercenary returned to plan their counterattack. He could tell that Byleth would want to be Yuri’s partner instead of a lackey, and that was perfectly fine with him; it wouldn’t be right to snag the help of the Ashen Demon himself and then relegate him to being a simple squad leader. Besides, Yuri wanted to learn everything he could from the man that had carved himself into the face of legend within the span of a few years, and spending time with Byleth was the only way he could do that.

It took twelve days for his spies that had left shortly after the attack to return, following the retreating Scorpions to their hideout and then racing back to Abyss. It turned out that the main force was occupying a ruined fortress shortly into Arundel territory in the Empire. The fortress was nowhere near as defendable as what it would have been back in its glory days, but all of the gaps in the walls and gate-less archways were patrolled day and night by guards, and what remained of the walls had plenty of archers stationed on them. They weren’t going to be able to just walk in and start swinging.

In fact, it was very odd how organised their enemy was; even if they were a branch of an organised crime syndicate, these men really were nothing more than glorified bandits. They must either have very specific orders, or a very good leader to be acting like a trained military group. Or maybe there was another reason entirely for their odd behaviour?

“Hey Yuri! You in there, pal?”

Startled out of his reverie, Yuri could hear Balthus’s booming voice straight through the heavy wooden door of his office. He hurriedly moved his legs from where they had been draped over the top of his desk before replying.

“Yeah I’m in here. What’s going on?”

Instead of an answer, Balthus opened the door. Dust spiralled into the air from the draught that had now been let into the room; he didn’t really use this office much. Only when he had a problem to think about.

Stooping to let his almost comically large figure through the doorway, the brawler looked a little out of place surrounded by the rickety bookshelves and academic squalor of the room. Yuri’s office was mostly put together out of a few pieces of furniture salvaged from the shadow library, and was really only somewhere that he used to store books and documents he didn’t want going missing. As the leader of the Mockingbirds, he didn’t even have to lock the door to know the place was safe, although he still did anyway.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go down to the arena to train, you’ve been stuck in here for days- its not good for your fightin’ ability. We can go topside afterwards, catch some light before the sun sets.”

Yuri propped one of his elbows on the desk and rested his head on his palm. “I can’t, I’m trying to put together some plans to show Byleth when he gets back.” He gestured to the piles of paper littering the desk, his quill still in the inkpot where he had left it quite a while ago. “But without knowing the details of what Byleth can offer us, it’s difficult to put anything together accurately.”

Balthus took a cursory glance at the mounds of paper. “Sounds like you’re doing a whole lotta nothing to me. What’s the point of doing this if you haven’t got the info yet? You’re only gonna have to redo it all once the guy gets back.”

“Well no, if I make up some preliminary plans-” He stopped himself mid-sentence and looked down at the grand total of nothing that he’d achieved so far.

“I suppose I’d better stop straining myself if you of all people are beginning to sound rational.” He sighed, then started shuffling his papers together and putting them away in his desk drawers, the ink long dry. He wouldn’t have cared even if they could be smudged; the words and diagrams likely held little accuracy anyway.

“Hey! I’m more than just the strong, good-looking muscle round here, I’ve got brains _and_ brawn.”

Yuri had to laugh at that. Trust Balthus to make him laugh after feeling completely shitty for a straight week.

“Oh really? Well you’d better add ‘crafty’ to that list of your attributes- you’ve done an amazing job of keeping it from the rest of us.”

Flashing him a grin, Balthus spread his arms in a defeated gesture. “That’s me, better watch your back around _this_ shady character.” He leaned against the doorway as he continued. “Come on, I’ll even put some gold back into our little betting game if you’ll come.”

Yuri stood up from the desk with a knowing smile. “Okay, I can never say no to swindling you out of more money. Let’s go.”

A few minutes through the journey down to the arena, they passed a group of Mockingbirds who looked like they were just on their way back from training. Most of them were chattering away excitedly enough, but one of them was walking with a decidedly sullen look on her face, not talking to any of her comrades.

Yuri met Theda’s eyes just as they passed each other. However, the moment passed as soon as it had come, the Mockingbird’s mouth settling into an even deeper frown as she turned her head away from him. Yuri could remember their last conversation all too well after he’d finally agreed to tell her the truth of what she’d noticed. Theda’s barbed words were still keeping the wounds in his conscience fresh almost three weeks later.

 _“How can we trust you when you’re keeping secrets from us- do you seriously think_ he _will trust you once he finds out what you did? Have you thought that far ahead in your master plan?”_

_“Thede, all I did was show him what was down here- he made the decision to help us by himself.”_

_“Stop it. You can’t keep twisting words and manipulating people to suit yourself. That’s exactly what Aelfric does.”_

The comparison of him to the man who had the ability to make Abyss crumble was one that hurt him more than he allowed Theda to see.

But he couldn’t stew in his own self-pity for long. As he and Balthus rounded the next corner, he could hear the rhythmic pounding of running footsteps echoing down the corridor towards them, heralding the arrival of yet another Mockingbird.

This one skidded to a halt in front of them, and handed Yuri a scribbled note that looked like it was from one of his covert patrols before standing to attention as he read:

_The mercenaries are entering the town, heading back to their headquarters. Thought you might want to hear._

Stuffing the note into his pocket and dismissing the messenger with a nod, Yuri turned to Balthus.

“Sorry, friend, looks like we might have to take a rain-check on our training.”

* * *

It was raining in the world above Abyss, but that wasn’t going to stop Yuri.

It had been three weeks since Byleth had left, and although he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, he hadn’t only wanted him back to make a plan of attack. He had a genuine desire to see the man without being spurred on by an ulterior motive. There was something special about watching a legend become human right in front of your eyes, unmasked by a burgeoning companionship, that was all. Never mind the fact that they hadn’t actually spent that much time together in the grand scheme of things.

He barely had to think about the route anymore, his feet knowing the turns as easily as he knew the scars on the back of his hand. Suddenly, moving along at a brisk walk was too slow for him- he stopped. Took a quick glance left, then right. It looked like the rain had scared off the majority of the pedestrians. Then he began to run.

The simple pleasure of running in the rain wasn’t one he had felt for a long time, trapped as he was under earth and responsibility. For a moment he could slip back into his childhood, unburdened by the weight of hundreds of flickering lives, and soar over the cobbles of the mud-slick street. Rain washing through his hair and clothes, the cold of the water mingling with the heat of his skin and the rhythm of his boots on the road. Right now, he didn’t feel like a Savage Mockingbird at all-, but rather a swallow. His mother had told him about swallows when he was very young, and he had loved the fact that they were free to fly as far as the wind could carry them, but they would always have a home to return to whenever they were tired of travelling. He could remember wanting to live the life of a swallow in that moment.

But that ship had sailed long ago. If he tried to run now, he would always come crashing down to earth again, weighted by his responsibilities like a chain around his ankle.

Skidding to a stop a few turns before he reached the guild headquarters, Yuri took a moment to make himself presentable before turning up on Byleth’s doorstep, but it only took a quick glance in a nearby shop window to tell that his appearance wasn’t worth attempting to save at this point. He was sodden with rainwater, his hair plastered to his skin and water was streaming down his face in rivulets. Thankfully, his thick uniform had prevented the rest of him becoming as soaked, but that didn’t stop water running down his sleeves in icy droplets that made him shiver as he walked.

Now that the manic excitement of Byleth’s return had passed, he considered turning right around and heading back to Abyss with his tail between his legs; Byleth had only just returned and would surely want some rest after three weeks of hard travelling. Besides, Yuri didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the man by looking the way he did.

But no. He was most of the way there now, and Byleth didn’t seem like someone who put too much stock into appearances anyway. If he left now, he would only go back to tearing his hair out back in Abyss, and that would do no one any good. Getting a general plan sorted out now would allow him to go back to his office and work out the details as soon as possible, including any contingencies he would need in case anything went wrong.

It always paid to be three steps ahead, after all.

Sighing, he gave his reflection a steely look before resuming his walk towards the Mercenary Guild.

The guild was located at the end of a wide cobbled street on the outskirts of town, comprising of a series of stone buildings sat in a U-shape around a packed-earth courtyard. Thankfully, the courtyard was over the far side of the buildings; he didn’t want to have to go swimming through that mud-bath to get to his destination. He idly noticed a distant wall overlooking the courtyard where he made his first contact with Byleth, before the building he was approaching blocked it from view. He wondered if Byleth thought about that day as often as he did.

Pushing open the sturdy oak door to the main building revealed an interior that was oddly reminiscent of a tavern, complete with all the rough charm that a band of mercenaries could give the place. There were groups of burly men and women scattered throughout the common room, some huddled around a blazing hearth nursing drinks, others playing cards or dice together, and they all looked settled enough for Yuri to gather that these were the ones that hadn’t joined Byleth in the most recent job he’d just gotten back from. A few of them looked up as he entered and regarded him with a puzzled gaze, but upon seeing him approach the front desk they lost interest as quickly as they had gained it.

He addressed the bored looking youth manning the desk in the back of the room. “I need to talk with your boss.”

The teen stared at him for a sullen second before replying. “Sorry, he’s not available right now. If you’re looking to hire out a couple of guys for a day or so, I can handle that for you.”

Yuri gritted his teeth discretely. People taking him less seriously than they would anyone else was something he absolutely hated- he suspected it stemmed from his feminine appearance, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about that.

“Well sorry to disappoint, but I’m already in talks with Byleth for something a little more _large scale_ than that.”

“Look, he’s just come back from a job, he’s not gonna be in the best of moods right now.”

“I don’t _care_. I’ve been waiting for him to get back- this needs sorting out.”

Apparently, this conversation had gone on for longer than the other man could handle, since he shook his head before replying.

“Fine, go up both flights of stairs, it’s the last door on the left. Knock before you go in, and don’t blame me if he yells at you.”

Normally he would’ve come up with a scathing response to this, but he was well past caring. As soon as the warning had left the man’s mouth, he was already halfway up the first flight of stairs.

Tracing his hand along the banister as he went, he ascended the next flight of stairs up to the top floor, and then along to the door that unhelpful mercenary had directed him to. Now he was physically standing outside of Byleth’s door, that uncertainty came creeping back in again but he shook it off before it could take hold of him again.

What was wrong with him today? He seriously needed to get it together.

Shifting his foot to cover the small puddle his dripping cloak had created on the floorboards, he raised his hand to knock at the door.

But before he could rap his fist against the wood, the door had swung open, revealing Byleth. They had been standing quite close to each other after Byleth removed the barrier between them, and upon registering Yuri’s presence he jerked back to a distance that respected both of their personal spaces. They stood there for a moment, each dazed by the sudden appearance of the other.

“Yuri?” Byleth spoke first, his confused voice ringing in Yuri’s ears. “What are you doing here? Has something happened?”

Still stunned by their abrupt reunion, Yuri took a second to respond. “No, I-”

But the mercenary had cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Goddess, you’re soaking.” His face was full of emotion for once, his brows drawn together in concern. It was pretty unsettling for someone who usually only showed hints of his true feelings. “Get inside, I’ve got a fire.”

Byleth raised a hand to guide him inside, but Yuri made sure to sidestep it entirely. He hadn’t expected him to act like a mother hen, and he might just not have showed up if he knew that Byleth would be acting this weirdly. He wanted to leave with some of his dignity intact.

“I’m capable of walking through a doorway myself, thanks.” He took a moment to inspect Byleth’s room- incredibly spartan with only the most basic of amenities- although he supposed the man had only moved in recently. He then noticed the trail of drips he had created on the floor as Byleth closed the door behind him. “I’ll take a spare cloak if you’ve got one lying around, though.”

Byleth nodded, then moved to rummage around in a cloth bag on his bed before extracting a thick grey cloak and tossing it over to Yuri.

“That should help. It’s been travelling with me, but it should be clean enough; I only used it to sleep on.”

Wrapping himself in it, Yuri took a seat in one of the chairs beside the fireplace, the wood inside occasionally crackling as the fresh logs began to burn. As he arranged the fabric to cover his wet clothes, he noticed that the cloak smelled like hay. He didn’t mind that much.

Seating himself in the other chair, Byleth looked tired, but not as exhausted as Yuri would have expected him to be. Maybe travelling a lot was something you got used to.

“What happened out there then? How come you were a week later than you said?” Yuri mentally winced at how irked he sounded, but Byleth didn’t seem to register it.

“We had trouble with one of the local nobles about us taking care of the bandits that had fled into his territory. Apparently, he’s at odds with the merchant who hired us, so he didn’t trust that we were there to simply deal with the bandits.” He rested his head in the palm of his hand as he continued. “Combine that with the fact that I underestimated how untested some of the new recruits are, it took us longer than I predicted it would.”

Pulling the cloak tighter around himself, Yuri snuck a glance at Byleth’s face. He seemed transfixed by the emerging flames. “I hope the team that you assign for our little expedition together is a bit more experienced.” He said it in a joking manner, but despite how nice it was to talk with Byleth, it was time to get down to business.

Tearing his gaze away from the fire, Byleth turned to face him. “This job was low risk, low reward. I would only send experienced fighters on a mission like the one we’ve got planned.”

“So you’ll be expecting a higher reward from me then?” This wasn’t a topic Yuri had wanted to broach, but he wasn’t going to allow Byleth to do him a service and have free dictation of the bill afterwards.

Byleth looked pensive for a moment. “I can’t work for free; my men need to eat. But at the same time, I’m helping you because I want to, not because I’m expecting a huge reward.”

Leaning back in his seat, Yuri let a smirk slide onto his face at Byleth’s serious tone “The Ashen Demon, hero of the people.”

The casual jibe definitely _wasn’t_ a swift topic change from the insinuation that Yuri couldn’t afford to pay him, despite how gracefully Byleth phrased it.

“I don’t know why people insist on calling me that. I’m a mercenary; a real hero wouldn’t charge for saving people.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yuri fixed him with a sceptical look. “Have you seen yourself fight? First time I saw you, you looked like something that had crawled straight out of Ailell. And as for charging, you said it yourself: your men need to eat.”

Yuri had expected Byleth to focus more on his second statement- the first one seemed like an unarguable fact from his perspective- so Byleth’s casual response caught him off guard.

“I was training novices the first time you saw me; I doubt I was that impressive.”

_Shit._

Usually, Yuri didn’t mess up like this, but when he did it was very rare that he couldn’t recover from it. However, Byleth was proving to be an exception to his rules time and time again because the sudden silence was growing between them, starkly apparent in the absence of the warm words that had filled it up until now. All Yuri could do was stare dumbly at Byleth, powerless to climb out of the hole he had dug for himself. He could almost hear the other man working out the truth from the scraps Yuri had thrown him.

Byleth’s expression had slipped back into its steely mask as he pinned Yuri with his gaze. Yuri tried his hardest not to seem weak underneath it, but it was difficult when he was sopping wet and wrapped in a cloak that was far too big for him.

“When was the first time you saw me fight, Yuri?”

Sighing, Yuri stared towards a spot above the fireplace while answering. It seemed easier that way. “The day you came to Garreg Mach. I’d been assigned by Rhea to watch over the student’s camp from afar.” He hastily continued. “And when I say ‘assigned’, I mean ‘bullied’ because that’s what the Archbishop does when she doesn’t get what she wants.”

And just like that, the moment was ruined. Byleth closed his eyes, and remained silent for a while, but Yuri’s mind was doing the exact opposite. Realistically, he knew that Byleth wasn’t going to back out of their deal now- he’d known about Yuri being a spy for a long time- but he still felt like he’d upset something on a personal level.

Yuri started as Byleth rose unexpectedly from his seat and crossed to the desk that faced the opposite wall, and spread out a bunch of papers that had been left lying there, his cloak swishing behind him as he did. He stopped, then looked over his shoulder at Yuri, his face deceptively blank, but with the tiniest hints of irritation in the narrowing of his green eyes.

“Well, are we going to talk business or not?”

* * *

They did end up talking about business, and they were pretty efficient about it too.

Efficient enough that five days later- the fourth day of the Garland Moon- Yuri found himself sitting astride a borrowed horse in front of the gateway out of the monastery, beside Byleth at the front of a column of mercenaries. This time they were no mere trainees, but the most battle-hardened men and women that Byleth had to offer- the ones whose loyalties were strong enough that they’d never breathe a word of the nature of their operation to anyone.

And it wasn’t just Byleth who had pulled out all the stops for this mission; just behind the two of them were the rest of the Ashen Wolves. The Mockingbirds that had been selected for the mission were waiting some way down the mountain, so as not to give away Byleth’s involvement with the gang.

Flicking his eyes to the left, he tried to gauge Byleth’s mood without letting him know he was looking. The other man sat proud on his horse, his eyes fixed on the horizon and mouth a grim slash of determination- as unreadable as he’d always been since Yuri had gone to his quarters that day. They had met frequently in the past few days to make all the necessary preparations for the mission and there was certainly no hostility, but through all that time they hadn’t quite returned to their easy companionship that had characterised their earlier interactions. It was strange to think that they had barely spent a few hours total together before Byleth had distanced himself, but Yuri was feeling the loss more than he’d care to admit.

He turned around to check in on the rest of his friends, waiting a short distance behind them in the main body of the group. Hapi was faring the best out of all of them, her experience with horses and usual nonchalant manner making her look pretty bored despite all the activity going on around them. Balthus was looking distinctly uncomfortable on his steed, but that was nothing compared to Constance, who was twitching up the edge of her hood to peer at the cloud-covered sun every so often.

Turning back around, he made sure his own hood was secure over his head before idly scanning the few citizens going about their business around them. The hoods had been suggested by Byleth for the initial leg of the journey to keep the Wolves’ involvement secret from any prying eyes, but frankly, Yuri didn’t think they were doing much to hide their identities. The Wolves didn’t venture aboveground much, and the few who knew them already would probably know them well enough that they’d see right past any disguise the black fabric could offer. Still, Byleth had demanded it and Yuri didn’t feel in a position to deny him- not with the huge favour he was doing for Abyss. At least they would have removed them by the time the mid-summer sun would make an appearance.

But then he was jolted out of his thoughts by a figure in the thin crowd. Horrified, Yuri yanked the hood down even further over his face. Shit. _Shit_.

Stood on the street, smiling serenely at no one in particular, was Aelfric. It was odd for him to be in a place like this, and he stood out like a sore thumb in his flowing robes- he usually kept to Abyss or the monastery itself- what was he doing here? In Yuri’s mind there was no doubt about it. He was here because he knew.

Before they left, Yuri had told him that he was going to go and flush out the Scorpions- although he hadn’t given him any other details. It was only a lie of omission, after all; he couldn’t tell the man anything that the Ashen Wolves would contradict if they were to give him their own accounts. He supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult for Aelfric to figure out that Yuri was up to something with Byleth, but the fact that he was here, openly flaunting the fact that he knew and that he wanted Yuri to know that he’d figured it out- that was what was worrying. It meant that their little power struggle was finally about to move out of the shadows.

But he had to take this one step at a time. Scorpions first, Aelfric later.

That line of thinking didn’t stop him from taking the occasional glance at Aelfric, for a jarring moment, Yuri had thought that the man’s unblinking stare was being directed at him, but then he realised that it wasn’t him- it was directed at someone just past him.

Byleth. He was staring at Byleth.

For a split second, Yuri considered telling him about the fact that their cover may well be blown. Then he threw that idea away. Abyss needed Byleth’s help. _He_ needed Byleth’s help. He couldn’t take any risk that could lead to Byleth cancelling the mission, however unlikely that may be.

But still… he thought back to Theda’s words. He could lose Byleth’s trust if this ever came out- and didn’t he owe it to the man to be honest to him? He had seemed so heartfelt when he had proclaimed that he wanted to help the Abyssians- would he really throw that away over Aelfric?

Steeling himself, he turned back to Byleth- the mercenary having barely moved a muscle since he’d last looked. “Byleth…”

The other man glanced over. “What?”

“I-” but before he could continue, they were both distracted by the metallic groan of the town gates swinging open and the cacophony of noise that rose up from the eager battalion behind them. He could almost feel a force willing them to move towards the gates and out into the wilderness beyond.

Byleth angled his face towards Yuri’s, but his eyes kept glancing back to the horizon. “What is it?”

Yuri swallowed. “Nothing.” 

It was time for them to go. He’d deal with the consequences later.

Not even sparing him a word, Byleth nodded, and moved his horse forwards to lead the way out of the gates. Keeping close to him, Yuri kept his head down as he moved past the civilians- but the urge to turn around and have one last look was nagging at him until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He turned to face Aelfric, only to inadvertently meet the man’s eyes and see that he was smiling directly at him.

After meeting up with Yuri’s troops and filtering them into the rest of the group, they continued on the main road out of Garreg Mach, down the mountain until they finally reached the flat plains of the countryside around mid-morning. The rest of the Ashen Wolves had fallen further back to stay with the Mockingbirds, but Yuri stayed in line with Byleth at the head of the formation.

They were loosely following the border west between the Empire and the Kingdom, and it would take them roughly four days’ ride to reach the ruined fortress in Arundel territory. A blink of an eye compared to the veritable crawl the injured Scorpions had been reduced to. 

Leaning over in his saddle, Yuri attempted to spark up some conversation. It would be a dull four days otherwise. “Any tips about the terrain when we get there? I’ve heard reports but its not the same as getting advice from someone who’s probably fought in similar conditions before, y’know?”

“The terrain won’t be much to worry about.” The reply was matter-of-fact, carefully neutral. “We’re only dealing with flat ground- most fortresses are built on hills or easily defendable places, but luckily for us this one was built with convenience in mind.” He paused a moment, then spared a glance north, to the border. Yuri pointedly didn’t follow his gaze; he was trying not to think about how close he was to House Rowe’s territory right now. “It was one of several hastily built along this route during the War of the Eagle and Lion, so the engineers weren’t picky about where they built it.”

“Sounds like a pretty terrible tactic to me.” Yuri picked up the conversation in what felt like a natural way again. “They must have taken most of the war to build, and they’re not even easily defensible to boot.”

“That’s why most of them were abandoned not long after the hostilities had died down. They were more symbolic than anything- a way for the Hresvelgs to show the rest of their territories that they meant to defend the new border and prevent more Houses rebelling.”

Yuri nodded at that, and then they resumed their ride in silence for a little while.

But Byleth spoke up again not long afterwards. “It feels odd for me to be telling you something for once.”

As unusual as it was for Byleth to say something so inconsequential, especially when unprompted, the comment felt like a peace offering of some kind.

“Well, I don’t see everything that happens on this continent, after all.” He looked to Byleth for his reaction to his tentative reference to their little fall out.

The mercenary went quiet for a little while, and Yuri mentally started kicking himself before he replied.

“Thank the goddess for that.”

The words were quiet, and would maybe sound a little spiteful in another context, but from the tone of his voice it was like a shadow had been lifted from between them. Maybe Yuri had overestimated how big of an impact that day had on their relationship, or maybe all it took was to acknowledge the problem so they could both move on? Either way, Yuri could feel weight off of his shoulders. Their conversation naturally tailed off, as he and Byleth looked at each other, then at the road ahead of them.

They had a long way to go yet. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I've been scrambling to put this together in between college and my job but I'm happy with how it turned out, and it's an extra-long chapter too. 
> 
> It's a battle, so TW for death, violence, and a very small amount of blood, but there's nothing that graphic- I would say that if you're fine with playing the games, you should be fine to read this chapter. 
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated :)

Peering around the side the fortress’ crumbled inner wall, Byleth began to suspect something wasn’t right.

It wasn’t even his paranoia this time- it was what his eyes were clearly telling him. What they had been telling him as soon as he and his troops had come to the edge of the forest that morning and looked down at the border fort.

Even with Yuri’s distraction currently in full swing on the opposite side of the fortress, there shouldn’t be this few Scorpions defending the keep.

Struggling to predict enemy movements was a fairly new concept to Byleth, and he was finding it difficult to see what their enemy was playing at. It could be that they were even more amateur than Byleth predicted; leaving their base unguarded like this was a potentially fatal move- maybe they had already had to send for reinforcements against Yuri? Or it could be that there was something else occurring that Byleth hadn’t figured out yet…

But their last chance for calling off the attack had long since passed. He could hear the main force all the way from the opposite side of the fortress. The shouts of his people struggling against an onslaught of swords and arrows filled his ears while he stood around delaying his own role in the fight- taking the keep.

From his position behind the rubble of the old outer wall, he could see a straight path through to their target; a blessing but also a curse given that once they emerged there would be no more cover from the few defenders left. It was simple from here on out- a straight line and a fight they should now dominate through sheer numbers alone- but despite his advice to Yuri the night before, Byleth couldn’t help hesitating when he looked back at his men crouching behind the wall with him. His instincts were rarely wrong and acting on them had saved his life countless times before, but capturing the enemy base was essential to their plan- left in enemy hands it could provide somewhere to retreat to, and he and Yuri didn’t have nearly enough men or time to attempt a siege.

He was going to have to be decisive; whether they were mercenary or Mockingbird, all of his men were relying on his leadership for survival. Taking a breath, he reassured himself of their position; if the Scorpions hadn’t known about their plans to attack today then they shouldn’t have had the time to plan something. There was no time to attempt to think the situation through further. Anything else they would have to deal with as they fought.

Turning to the gathered Mockingbirds and mercenaries behind him, he addressed them in a low voice. “Everyone clear on the plan?”

There were nods from everyone. He couldn’t waste any more time.

“Advance on my signal.”

“Three…” They would stick to the plan and improvise only if they needed to. There was no reason why it still wouldn’t work.

“Two…” There was a whisper in the back of his head from someone that wasn’t quite himself, telling him there was something severely wrong here. His finger twitched on his drawn sword.

“One.” It was time to go.

* * *

“So, what’s the verdict then?”

Byleth started at the sudden noise, then glanced over to Yuri lying next to him in the dry undergrowth. The sound felt alien in the languid summer evening after spending most of the afternoon in silence. Stakeouts required concentration, after all; and it was essential they get a good feel for the Scorpion encampment spread out under the vantage point of the hilly forest they were currently hiding in. His joints were aching for him to get up and move around in the encroaching twilight, but this close to the enemy they were going to have to wait until the sun had fully set before they allowed themselves the luxury of movement.

Taking a moment to think before he replied, Byleth considered his options. He had come up with a variety of possible plans before they had even set off from the monastery, but he had to see the battlefield for himself before knowing which one would apply best to this scenario.

Hastily constructed and then left to ruin, the construction below them was more about size and the number of men it could fit in it rather than being strategically defensive, unlike other famous strongholds of Fódlan. Two uneven, concentric walls encircled the squat keep- the inner wall roughly forty metres from the central tower, and the almost derelict outer wall about a hundred metres from that. There were almost no surviving buildings other than the keep in the middle- the perfect enclosed battlefield.

“The actual area of the fortress they’re occupying is pretty small- they only have enough men to defend the main keep, so thankfully we’re going to need nowhere near the number of troops for a normal fortress assault. The fact that the outer walls are more broken than not will be a big help as well.”

Yuri nodded, but didn’t interrupt Byleth’s train of thought, which he appreciated; he knew the other man had known this part already before they had even set out.

“Our main issue is going to be with the archers they’ve put on that section of the wall there.” Byleth indicated a long, unbroken area of the inner wall that curved around the main keep in a thin crescent.

“Because of this forest encircling the northern side of the fortress, it would be easiest to advance from the southern side, but if we bring our main forces close to that wall the archers would decimate us before we could even get close. Our other main problem is that they could just retreat back into the keep and not engage us, which would be disastrous given that we don’t have the resources for a siege.”

“But I’m assuming you’ve got a plan?”

“I do. But it’s dangerous.” He shifted amongst the leaf litter, keeping an eye on the Scorpions, who were beginning to light torches in an attempt to keep a shred of visibility in the impending night. “We’ll split our forces into two groups, the main force being all of our ranged fighters and the majority of our melee fighters. They’ll provide a distraction on the southern side of the fortress while a smaller strike force comes from the northern side and takes the keep while its vulnerable. Once they’re done, they’ll engage the rest of the enemy from behind once we’ve cut them off from their base, trapping them in pincer movement.”

Yuri tilted his head, seemingly considering this for a moment. “It sounds like it would get the job done, but its suicide for anyone that gets assigned to the first group. Neither of us have an inexhaustible number of men; if the majority of them die here then we’re done for in any future battles.”

“The ranged fighters would focus on taking out the archers first, and I’d have a shield wall formed around them so they can take shelter during enemy volleys and from the melee. Everyone else in the main force would also have a shield to protect themselves from the arrows if needed, but they should be safe regardless; I’d bet the archers wouldn’t want to risk hitting their own men once the melee gets going.”

Still sounding unimpressed, Yuri responded. “And what happens if the archers target our men before our ranged fighters can take them out? And you said it yourself- what if they decide to hole up in their base and not fight us?”

“For the archers, our ranged fighters will be taking the offensive against them. Either they’ll defend themselves by attempting to attack our archers and mages, or they’ll be felled before they can do too much damage to our troops. Either way, they’re prevented from cutting us down like they’d be able to do normally. For your second point, the Scorpions will want to protect their archers if they’re the main form of defence their base has got. Once they see that we’re able to fight back against them, they should come running to the battle.”

A few more seconds of silence passed between them while Yuri mulled the information over.

“Okay, I’ll admit that it appears that the Ashen Demon _does_ know his stuff.” Byleth had to turn his head away slightly to hide his slight grin upon hearing that. It felt like a win to have Yuri praise him, even if it was only grudgingly.

But then the mood darkened as Yuri continued. “But it doesn’t do anything about the fact that a number, maybe a good number, of our troops _will_ die. I know it may not be realistic in an open battle, but I don’t like fighting unless I’m guaranteed absolute victory.”

Byleth sighed. “If there was a less risky way to do things, I’d have suggested it before I proposed this plan.” Yuri’s face fell slightly as he looked away, but he didn’t argue with Byleth’s answer. Byleth didn’t originally plan on saying anything else in that moment, but looking at Yuri’s reaction he felt compelled to explain somehow. “Sometimes there’s no way of going in with a hidden ace up your sleeve; sometimes battles just come down to numbers, luck, and our skill as commanders. It’ll be incredibly unlikely we’ll lose tomorrow, but the number of people battling and the luck of the day aren’t factors we can control. The only way we can actively lower our death toll tomorrow rests on how well we can direct our men.”

Yuri stayed silent for a few more moments, a contemplative expression spreading across his face as if he was trying to sort out what he was going to say next in his head. After a few seconds, Byleth turned his attention back to the fortress, now ablaze with the last shreds of light from the setting sun.

“The main force will have the most dangerous task, won’t they?”

“By far.” Byleth replied, his attention still fixed on the distant Scorpions. “Even if the risk posed by arrows is lessened, they’ve still got the majority of the melee forces to deal with.”

“I want to lead them.”

He felt the shock of the statement like a slap to the face. Pulled out of his focus on the stakeout, Byleth turned back the other man and replied with an instinctive “No.” Yuri opened his mouth as if to protest, but Byleth continued before he could form his first word. “It’s too dangerous.”

It would be dangerous, incredibly dangerous if the Scorpions decided to target the enemy leader, but Byleth had been expecting to take on that responsibility himself. He wouldn’t have asked Yuri to put himself in the line of fire like that when he had never even participated in a field battle before.

Swallowing, he hurriedly expanded on his blunt answer. “Like you said, it’s the most dangerous part of the battle. What if something happened to you and news got back to your men? They don’t have the discipline of trained mercenaries; without the confidence you give them they’d fall apart.”

“Don’t be so quick to underestimate them.” was the immediate answer, Yuri’s voice gaining a sharp edge as he spoke. “I understand what you’re saying, but that’s exactly why I should be out there with them. The Mockingbirds on the strike force are going to be used to what they’re doing, but my people in the main force are going to be lost on a battlefield.”

Abandoning his watch on the fortress completely, Byleth pressed his gloved hands to his eyes in frustration. “And _you’re_ going to be lost on the battlefield. A lot of the men and women in my company have known me since I was a child, yet they’d still step over my body without a second thought- and I would do the same for them. There is no room for hesitation or inexperience.”

The air seemed to crackle between them, heavy like an oncoming storm. Byleth’s mind was filled with visions of the aftermath of their strained interaction in his office- he didn’t want to back down, but an argument now would not bode well for tomorrow.

“Maybe you’re right.” Yuri still wasn’t looking him in the eye, but his voice had softened somewhat. “I doubt any of my people would be able to do that, but I know that we’ve got to try. If they don’t die today then they’ll die once the Scorpions return. At least if we try, we have a chance of winning.”

“And if something happens to you?” There was a steely edge to his words that didn’t quite match the pang in his chest as he realised he wasn’t going to be able to talk the other man down.

“Then I’ll leave it to you to avenge me.” The ghost of a smirk that flickered across Yuri’s face wasn’t enough to stop his last comment from hanging heavy in the air.

* * *

Byleth had always felt that the charge was the worst bit.

The last moments of anticipation before the fight where there was no time to calculate or scheme- no time to do anything except move forward and ask himself whether he thought he was going to make it to see tomorrow. To let the faces of the men and women in his battalion flash before his eyes and ask himself how many of them were going to die today. How many was he going to lead to their deaths?

An arrow whistled through the air, dangerously close to the side of his head before disappearing somewhere behind him. He didn’t look round to determine exactly what it had embedded itself into.

The shouts of the enemy were close now- he could hear the clash of weapons as they were drawn in a hurry as the remainders of the Scorpions surged forwards out of the gap in the wall to defend their borrowed home. Without having to look around, Byleth could feel the thundering footsteps of his allies falling into step beside him as they rushed forwards to introduce steel to flesh.

A Scorpion came forwards to challenge him with a desperate war cry. In the seconds it took him to advance, Byleth could see the widening of his eyes under an ill-fitting helmet. The moment before he struck, he saw the tremble of his fingers as he gripped his sword.

Byleth stabbed him through the chest.

It was quick but it wasn’t clean. The man slid off his blade, gasping into the dirt as he lived out the final moments of his life. Another defender came forward to replace him.

His men fought their way forwards with the energy that always came with being on the offensive, leaving body after body in their wake and red trails under their boots. Byleth had felled three men before they had pushed back the remaining Scorpions to the wall of their keep, each one lasting less than two blows before crumpling like a marionette with its strings cut. There was pained shouts from all around him, but as long as the majority of them were from the Scorpions and not his own men, he couldn’t afford to divert his attention from what was right in front of him.

Pouring forward behind the inner wall and entering the keep courtyard, Byleth couldn’t help but feel a gleam of satisfaction at the way the scorpions were falling around them, hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched by his and Yuri’s combined forces. It inspired a lot of confidence in him that the two groups, so fundamentally different, had taken to working together remarkably well considering that they could very well be enemies in a different set of circumstances. He had noted that very few of them were friendly with each other yet outside of battle, but there was something about a deadly situation that made men put aside their differences and work together in a way that they likely would never achieve with their closest friends. By now, their combined forces had practically dominated the courtyard, with the skeleton crew of defenders being almost instantly overrun by the invaders- it would be almost impossible for the Scorpions to come back from this.

He felt a bead of sweat drip down his neck in the midday heat. It couldn’t be over already, could it? Their part of the battle had gone remarkably well, even if the number of Scorpions they had to fight was less than they’d originally thought. 

Abandoning what was left of the fight to the rest of his men, Byleth turned and retraced his steps back the way they’d come. Reaching the hole in the inner wall, he placed a hand on a rough wooden barrel to support himself as he looked back out onto the grassy plain surrounding the fortress. There were bodies out there; mostly Scorpion, but a few others as well. There was nowhere near the amount of bodies that there should be. How many men had they actually fought against? Why was the keep barely defended? Even a madman wouldn’t have left so few defenders to their base, even to siphon off men to send against Yuri’s distraction.

He raised a hand to press against the side of his head in an attempt to combat the intense pounding he felt there, like someone was drumming on the inside in a rhythmic, ancient pattern. He shouldn’t be wasting this time thinking, he should be mobilising his men to go and help Yuri for goddess’ sake, especially if the missing Scorpions had gone to join the fight there. However, he remained static, arrested by the thought that _something_ wasn’t right.

And then a thought struck him. Although his battle-honed instincts rebelled, he turned his attention fully to the barrel he was leaning on instead of the fight around him. It was odd in how normal it was amongst its otherwise empty, dilapidated surroundings. The iron hoops holding the wood in place shone like new, with none of the rust that would be expected after constant exposure to the elements. It certainly wasn’t a remnant from the fortress’ original inhabitants centuries ago. Had the Scorpions placed it there?

It was difficult to see through the throng of people, but it only took a few seconds for Byleth to spin around and identify at least two- no, three- more innocuous barrels placed at regular intervals along the inner wall, and those were only the ones he could see before the crowd of people cut them off from his line of sight. All of them were made suspicious by how mundane they were in such a setting.

Feeling a growing sense of trepidation, Byleth lifted the lid from the barrel in front of him and was instantly met with a sharp smell that burned his nose. It was filled with- was that water?

Dipping a finger into the substance and bringing it closer to his nose only made his eyes water and the pounding in his head grow more intense. It looked like water, but instead the slick, noxious substance remained coated on his gloves instead of dripping like water would. He had never seen the stuff before in his life- so why did he feel like he should recognise it from somewhere?

 _“Moron!”_ Byleth jumped about a foot backwards from shock as Sothis’ voice filled his head. He had barely heard from her since she had broken into his waking thoughts against Kostas and his bandits- what was she doing talking to him in the middle of a battle?

 _“You see but you do not understand.”_ The ghost-girl in his brain was panicking. She had never done that before. _“You must do something before it is too late, save your people!”_

The hammering in his head only increased as she spoke. Was _she_ the one who was giving him the worst headache of his life in the middle of a crucial battle?

“What is it? What am I missing?” His heart was in his mouth. He needed to do something- but without knowing what the danger was he might only doom his men further.

 _"Must I do everything, even when you are the one who has a body?”_ She screeched. _“I have been trying to talk to you this whole time, and when I finally manage it you are more than useless.”_

And then he understood, like Sothis had physically made the connection in his brain that sparked a recognition of something he’d never seen before. Something he’d only heard about in stories. Suddenly he understood why Sothis was scared.

“Goddess-fire.”

He drew back like the liquid had scalded him. This couldn’t be happening. This was happening. He had led his men right into a trap.

Goddess-fire. Once, and perhaps still, the most feared substance on the continent. Named so by the people of Fódlan due to its similarities to the goddess’ supposed wrath on Ailell, Goddess-fire was a liquid that could turn into intense, white hot fire and burn for hours under the right circumstances. A single ship-full of the stuff was enough to turn the tide of entire battles if used well, and had been used to that effect throughout history. Adding to its intrigue was the secrecy of its manufacture; Goddess-fire didn’t belong to any one nation, and each time it was used the commanders that had overseen its use had refused to reveal where they had acquired it from. This much had the potential to turn the whole structure into a maelstrom of flames and stone shrapnel.

But right now, it didn’t matter where it had come from- all that mattered was getting his men away from it and warning Yuri.

A shout of warning went up from some of his men, wresting Byleth’s attention away from the veritable firebomb in front of him. Following the direction of their gestures, he looked up to see a lone Scorpion standing on the top of the ruined tower- an archer. The man had already nocked an arrow, the bow held loose in one hand while he raised something bright and burning in the other.

Everything that happened next seemed compressed into a single moment, and it was difficult to follow the action as it happened. The chain of events must have started with the archer lighting the arrow with the torch he held in his off hand, but the next thing Byleth found himself being able to register was the tightening of his bowstring and the muscles in his arm as he aimed- aimed for the barrel just to Byleth’s right.

There was no way he could make it in time. And even if he could- what was he going to do, throw himself in front of the arrow’s path? It would be a noble gesture, but there would be nothing to stop the enemy bowman from simply taking aim again and his men would die regardless. The only difference being that Byleth’s death would be a lot more painless than their own. What was going through that man’s mind right now? Wasn’t he aware that he’d surely be incinerated in the blast as well?

Byleth’s mind wandered to the battle being waged a little further down the gentle valley that the fortress was nestled on. Would their forces fight harder upon seeing the flames climb up into the sky, or would they turn tail and flee? Would Yuri order their troops to save themselves, or would he fight on until he reached the scorched rubble of the keep, looking for something, anything, to salvage from the wreckage?

He didn’t want anyone to have to make that choice, let alone the man who seemed so determined to save everyone.

_“Then ensure that choice never had to exist in the first place.”_

He wouldn’t have been able to explain later what exactly he did in that moment. Ripping apart the cosmos was the mental equivalent of being able to navigate your way through a familiar city but not being able to describe the route you took to anyone else- it was just something he did, like an invisible muscle that he could flex and relax without consciously attempting to. He could feel time changing shape around him. The actions of his allies grew more and more sluggish, while the wind became feebler in its attempt to ruffle the thin patches of grass dotting the courtyard. The archer released his flaming arrow, cutting through the air in a clean line towards its target. The arrow didn’t have far to go, but luckily for Byleth, he soon found that time was brittle and didn’t take long to shatter if you knew how. A tightening in his chest accompanied the moment fracturing, then splitting apart completely in an almost musical manner.

The sensation of being able to move while surrounded by a world suspended in time was almost overwhelming in its novelty, but ironically, he wouldn’t be able to do this forever. The power inside him was waning, and he needed to piece the flow of time back together before it resumed its original state. Guided by a ghostly hand, he could feel each shard fitting back together until time was whole again, but this time remade following his design.

_“Good. Now let the power go. Let the natural order of things take it from here.”_

Almost reluctantly, he did as Sothis asked. As he gradually lost the sixth sense that she had apparently granted him, he could feel that she was right. The cracks he’d made were healing like breaks in a bone until they became harder to detect, and then unperceivable.

Pressing down the awe he felt at what he’d just accomplished, he turned his attention back to the mundane world.

_He felt a bead of sweat drip down his neck in the midday heat. It couldn’t be over already, could it?_

Returned to a moment he had lived through once before, it was now clear to see that he was right in his doubts. Now all he had to do was find a way to prevent the same future happening twice. He could order his men to retreat and get as far away from the danger as possible, but then they would have failed their original objective. It was time for a much more proactive approach.

Grabbing a few people from the melee, Byleth did his best to indicate what he wanted them to do over the clamour of battle. The three mercenaries and two Mockingbirds were looking between each other like they couldn’t believe what they were hearing, but Byleth wasn’t going to give them the time or opportunity to question him.

It barely took any force at all to break through the rotting wooden door to the fortress, once a grand entrance that would have cowed any would-be invader now reduced to matchsticks under a humble force of six. As they ascended the spiral staircase that ran close to the outside walls of the tower, it became clear that Byleth had been correct in his assumption that there would be little to no guardsmen blocking their path; it would take a special kind of madness to sacrifice your troops in a firebomb. The last remaining bowman must be clueless, mad, or a combination of the two.

But a few flights of stairs higher, he was unpleasantly surprised by the small remaining group of Scorpions that were gripping their weapons with white knuckles, all turning to face them as they emerged onto the top floor of the keep. All of them seemed indisposed in some way- several had legs splinted or wrapped in bandages, and more lay immobile around a smoking pile of wood in the fireplace. There were probably about seven that could stand and face them, although from their pained expressions and favouring of certain body parts, it was certain why these men weren’t participating in their bases’ defence.

This must be their enemies’ injured. With a jolt, Byleth realised that some, if not most, of these men might even be the ones who escaped from Abyss after their disastrous assault on the Yuri’s town. However, from the wary looks in their eyes, it was clear to Byleth how they currently felt about who was posing a threat to whom. Whoever their commanders were had apparently left them to die, through either fire or the sword. Byleth wanted to be less cruel than they were.

“Wait.” He commanded, watching his allies raise their weapons in preparation for a fight out of the corner of his eye. The wounded Scorpions hadn’t moved a muscle, except maybe them shrinking back the tiniest amount into the opposite side of the room.

“But- sir, you can’t possibly…” One of his mercenaries spluttered out. He snapped his head to the side and silenced her with a harsh glare.

Slowly, he lowered his sword by a tiny amount, watching for the reactions of the Scorpions. They flinched and clutched their own weapons tighter, but made no move against them.

Inching closer at the lack of movement, he began to talk to them. “We can see you’re all in no condition to fight. If you let us pass peacefully, then we’ll have no reason to harm-”

But the Scorpion closest to them had charged with a wild battle cry, the desperation in his attack and the wound in his right leg making it simple to knock him to the ground and wrench his sword out of his clumsy grip.

Byleth released the man, who sank to the floor at his feet, clutching at his twisted wrist with his head bowed. None of the other Scorpions had moved an inch, most shrinking away from the skirmish and gathering around those who were wounded most. It was clear to see that the man who had fought him was in no condition to continue to challenge their ascent through the tower, but the tension in his body didn’t indicate the fight had left him just yet.

Seeing the blade glint in the low torchlight, Byleth had grabbed the man’s remaining good hand as soon as he’d seen him start to unsheathe the dagger. He wasn’t going to fall for that trick again.

Dragging the man up to his face by the arm he was still holding in a vice grip, he determined to make the man understand him whether he had to intimidate him or not.  
  
“You are _wounded_. There’s no way you can come out on top in a fight. You’ve done your duty and you’ve lost, but if you _stand aside_ then no harm will come to you.”

Grimacing in pain, the man turned his face defiantly to Byleth’s own as he responded. “You think we’re doing this out of _duty_? Duty is for rich shits and noble brats.” He heaved in a stuttering breath as Byleth tightened his grip on his arm. “We’re here because we’re getting paid. End of.”

Feeling the hairs rise on the back of his neck, he snapped a quick command to two members of his group to head up the last flight of stairs to the roof and get to the archer and deal with him before the time came when he would draw his bow. No one challenged them as they left, and the noise of surprise from their lone target was cut off as the thick trapdoor to the roof closed shut after them. The only sound in the room became the crackling of the thin fire.

“You’re getting paid?” Byleth questioned. “And who would pay a lowly offshoot of a street gang from Enbarr to invade somewhere watched over by the Church of Seiros?”

“You think I know?” The man laughed. “I just turn up and take my money.” He let out a grunt of pain as Byleth threw him roughly to the floor and loomed over him.

“Don’t try and bullshit me. There’s always gossip and rumours, even if you didn’t see their fucking signet ring.” The man remained silent. “You do know whoever set you up here left you to die, right? They turned this entire keep into a trap that would have killed all of you if we hadn’t killed that archer up there.” His men hadn’t actually reappeared since he sent them up to deal with their little problem, but he had no doubts about whether they had completed their task or not. He and everyone else inside the keep would be blown into little burning bits by now if they had failed.

“Alright, alright! Fine, you’ve convinced me.” Byleth gritted his teeth at the man’s insolent tone, but unfortunately, he needed him to continue speaking. “Rumour has it our leader has been getting his orders from someone outside the gang- had this whole deal handed to him on a silver platter. We’d get this base and a wage as long as we could get rid of the other gang in that festering rat-hole under the monastery.”

That… didn’t make sense.

“So, you never actually wanted Abyss for yourselves? You were after this base the whole time?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, the Scorpion seemingly as puzzled as Byleth was.

“Listen, I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m only a grunt; I don’t get told the good stuff. What I do know is that if our boss ever told us to go and cosy up right underneath the home base of the Knights of Seiros, I think I’d turn around and go back to the streets of Enbarr.”

For a moment no one said anything. Byleth’s mind was slowly puzzling together what the other man had told him, trying to fit it into his understanding of events. The Scorpions apparently had a backer now, which Byleth knew from his past mercenary work would make them all the more dangerous. The question was now around who hired them and why? It didn’t make sense to him at all, but this wasn’t his area of expertise anyway. He needed to find Yuri.

After ordering his men to guard the injured Scorpions for the remainder of the battle, he descended the spiralling stone stairs of the keep two at a time. He had spent longer taking the keep than he’d intended, and although he’d earned some new information by doing so, he didn’t imagine that would be of much comfort to Yuri right now. If all the able-bodied soldiers had left the keep to avoid the trap, then they must be out fighting in the main battle- which meant Yuri must be having a much harder fight on his hands than they’d originally anticipated.

Gathering his men waiting outside with a shouted command, he led the way to the now unguarded southern gate of the courtyard. From the other side, he could now see the battle, happening some way down the gently-sloping field that the fortress sat at the top of. It was difficult to tell who had the upper hand since neither side wore a uniform, but the crowd of people was swollen with what must be the extra men who were expected to guard the keep.

But before they could reach the pitched melee, they first had to deal with the inner wall that the Scorpion archers had made such a danger for them. The few remaining archers hadn’t noticed anything wrong behind them just yet, but they would hear them as soon as they started to move forwards. It looked like Yuri had been able to thin most of them out already- at least that part of their plan seemed to have run without a hitch.

Again, he turned to look behind him to check on his men before he inevitably lost track of some of them during the fight. They were a few less than when they had started out, but those who remained were serious, steady. A few nodded grimly at him as he swept his eyes down the line.

He faced forwards towards the battle. “You all know what to do.” There were a few cheers and shouts at that.

“Advance!”

And then they were off, charging directly for the wall in front of them. Most of his people were hollering out war cries and excited cheers after their relatively easy win at the keep, having had a taste of blood and deciding they liked it. Byleth didn’t mind- it wasn’t like they would have had an element of surprise once they started moving anyway, and the shock to the remaining half a dozen archers as they turned around saved them a precious few seconds as they temporarily forgot what they were meant to be doing.

Byleth could see some of the people below them look up at the new wave of soldiers coming towards them- the Mockingbirds and mercenaries letting out replying cheers and calls while most of the Scorpions stood frozen like startled deer. Some turned like they were trying to find somewhere to escape to, but they faced enemies in front and behind them with no hope of getting away. Yuri was nowhere to be seen.

The archers had apparently recovered from the shock of their advance and had started to shoot in their direction. Most of the shots went wide thanks to the haste with which they were firing and the awkward positioning they had been forced to aim from, but one at least found its mark in the Mockingbird to the left of him. The man fell to the ground, his body twisting as he did so in a way that was sickening to witness. They continued forwards.

It wasn’t long before they reached the bottom of the slope and the wall from which the archers were perched atop of. It took all but a few seconds for the agile Mockingbirds to scale the rough stone and dispose of the last of the archers, several of the men pitching backwards into the melee below as they died.

There was no time to waste celebrating the success of their plan; the archers may be done but time was ticking forwards and Yuri’s men would be tired by now. One by one, Byleth’s taskforce spilled out of the main gate in the wall and beyond the inner wall to finally reach the main battle. Taking some comfort in the familiar atmosphere of a field battle, Byleth raised his sword and began to carve a path through the fray.

He had no real plan, except to find Yuri. Most of the field was utter chaos, Mockingbirds and Scorpions fighting each other in twos or threes with very little regard for what was happening around them. Byleth’s mercenaries had at least banded together into larger groups for their safety, but the battle looked less like it was being fought between two distinct sides and more like a desperate free-for-all. Gritting his teeth, Byleth fought the urge to wipe off the spray of blood that had painted the right side of his face at some point. He shouldn’t have agreed to Yuri’s demand to lead this offence, even if he had some good arguments for doing so. It would have been a demanding set of circumstances even when they thought they had the upper hand, let alone when it was a much more even situation than they thought.

And then he saw them. Ahead of him was the one part of the battle that looked to be organised to some degree- the ranged fighters, set up on a small hillock and surrounded by a wall of shield bearers. They were still following their original instructions, which meant they had to be listening to _someone’s_ orders. It was a good a place as any to start looking.

Reaching the men who made up the shield wall, he saw them instinctively tense up with the heat of the battle before realising who he was and creating a small gap for him to squeeze through with a mumbled apology that got lost in the pure noise that surrounded everything. Byleth didn’t even look back at them.

The inside of the circle was a little more hospitable than the outside. About twenty to thirty men and women were crouched close to the ground, most of them archers with a few mages here and there. A grim-faced healer was going from person to person, doing their best to patch up whatever small injuries they had sustained mid-battle. Over to one side, he could see Yuri, Constance, Hapi, and Balthus talking urgently about something. They were dishevelled and their eyes were filled with the ghosts that war bestows, but they were otherwise unharmed. Keeping his posture hunched over to stay under the protection of the shields surrounding them, he sidled up to the Abyssians and knelt beside them.

Apparently, they had been too engrossed in their conversation to see him approaching, as all of them except for Yuri jumped about a foot backwards at his sudden appearance. Yuri just stared at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. No one said anything for a few seconds. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Byleth broke the silence.

“Anything to report?”

Maybe not the best thing he could have said when considering that there was obviously an almost insultingly long list of things to report, but hey, he was under pressure too.

His eyes narrowing, Yuri’s expression turned cold as he hissed, “Anything to report? You mean _besides_ the fact that we’re practically overrun? And that you’ve been nowhere to be seen throughout all of this? What the hell have you been doing?”

“I’ve been fighting my own battle too, and it took us nowhere near as long as we expected.” Byleth felt himself become defensive against Yuri’s sharp words, but he had to remind himself that the man was under an insane amount of pressure so probably wasn’t going to be thinking logically- he’d had a much harder fight for the exact same reason that Byleth had it easy. “I came over to tell you of a development that happened over on our side, but it can wait until we’ve cleaned this up.” He paused for a moment to look around the group of people. None of them seemed to be moving or attacking anything- just sitting on the ground while the fight took place around them. “What’s happening here right now?”

Yuri looked like he was about to launch into an angry tirade before Hapi took over the conversation. “Well, we were in the middle of taking out the archers when we saw that you guys had finished them off, but the rest of the crowd was too mixed up to consider choosing any new targets.” She picked at her fingers as she spoke, the action betraying the nerves that her nonchalant voice did so well to hide. “Since we have no clear path to retreat, we can’t get the ranged fighters to safety without exposing them to the fight, so we’re stuck here.”

Constance, who had since been staring at the ground in an unblinking, dazed manner, unexpectedly spoke up. “I fear we have doomed our fellow Abyssians through our actions here.” Constance… did not sound like herself. Maybe the battle had affected her more than Byleth had assumed it would, given her delight when defending Abyss. “Maybe the Ashen Demon could have accomplished a victory here, but we are poor imitations of leaders ourselves.”

“Shut _up_ , Constance.” Yuri sounded incredibly frustrated, but Byleth could see the concern for his friends shining through his attitude. “If there’s anyone to blame here, its those fucking Scorpions, and maybe you.” With that he pointed at Byleth “I knew this plan was crazy right from the start.”

“Hey boss, you might wanna _not_ cause an argument in the middle of a battle, yeah?” Balthus was trying his best to placate his friend, but the strain in his voice was evident. “Let’s save it until we’re outta here, then we can have all the arguments we want without dying.”

Yuri closed his lavender eyes, and when he opened them, his anger had dulled to a weary frustration that Byleth was all too familiar with himself. “You’re right. Let’s just get this over with.”

He turned to Byleth. “Seems like I’m always asking you to do the impossible, but if you get us out of this mess, I’ll forgive you for putting me through the worst experience I’ve ever had.”

Byleth nodded, unsure of how to respond to that beyond taking it sincerely. “Regaining control over the wider battle itself is probably a lost cause at this point, but we can still get these people to safety.” He gestured to the ranged fighters around them. “They’ve done their job, and getting them out of here will free up the men in the shield wall to go and fight.”

Making the preparations to leave took a surprisingly short amount of time since the plan was pretty simple. The soldiers would escort the ranged fighters south, heading in the opposite direction to the keep until they were a safe distance from the battlefield. Then they would leave the mages and archers to find their own way back to their camp while they returned to the battlefield.

“Constance, Balthus, and Hapi- you guys can help escort them if you want, but Yuri and I can only accompany you to the edge of the battlefield. It would cause a panic if we were seen leaving.” He turned to address Yuri. “We’ll bring up the rear. It’ll be our job to take out anyone who may try to pursue us.”

His only reply was a grim nod. They were ready to go.

One advantage of having a completely chaotic battle was that people didn’t tend to look any further than the enemy immediately in front of them. This may have been their one saving grace, since retreating soldiers were often left defenceless if anyone tried to pursue them. Byleth could see a few exceptions in the gangs of his mercenaries going round and joining up with any other allies they saw- even if it was still unorganised on the whole, he thanked the goddess that they were well-trained enough to think of the strength they would have in numbers. He and Yuri waited until the rest of their people had gone, fleeing their makeshift fortress in small groups flanked by soldiers until it was just them left. Then, with a quick glance exchanged between them, they followed.

It wasn’t the first time he had fought with Yuri, but it struck him again how well they worked together. Yuri’s speed and vicious offence sometimes meant he was erratic when it came to defending himself, but Byleth’s flexibility in his fighting style meant that he was able to cover for him whenever there was any danger. Not many people approached them as they moved through the crowds, but anyone who did barely got within three feet of them before being struck down by twin arcs of steel. 

Before long, they could see the crowds begin to thin out as they reached the edge of the field. The first groups of ranged fighters had already broken away and were running for base camp, their escorts having doubled back to re-join the fight already. Once it became apparent that their people were no longer in any danger, they slowed to a stop and watched them go.

“They’re all safe.” Yuri’s chest was heaving from exhaustion, and Byleth contemplated telling him to save his breath before deciding otherwise. “I can’t save everyone on this goddess-forsaken field, but at least they can get away.”

Then he gave Byleth a lopsided smile, still breathless from the run. Despite the conditions they were in, Byleth felt something in his chest lurch at how unguardedly happy the man looked. For a moment he could have forgotten he was in the midst of battle, he could have forgotten he was anywhere that wasn’t the luminous violet of Yuri’s eyes.

But it appeared that Byleth _had_ in fact forgotten that they were in the midst of battle. Under normal circumstances he would have noticed the soldier who approached them before he got within a stone’s throw of their position, but he had allowed himself to be distracted. So distracted, that he didn’t notice anything was wrong until Yuri’s eyes widened with surprise, and then he was stumbling forwards into Byleth’s arms, making him stagger with the unexpected weight. For a moment Byleth was strongly reminded of the trick ending to their duel back at the monastery, but then he looked down over Yuri’s shoulder and took in the one crucial difference that made his battle-hardened heart shatter into pieces.

This time, he would have given anything for the knife to be held to his throat and not embedded in Yuri’s back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it's been a while!
> 
> It's a short one this time I'm afraid- I was planning on a much longer chapter, but I've had deadlines lots of coursework over the past few weeks and now I'm bogged down with exams which have left me with no time or motivation to write, so I thought I'd at least put out what I've got rather than delay any longer. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and as always any feedback is appreciated! :)

Yuri awoke to the rhythmic sound of horses’ hooves and the faint trill of birdsong.

If he was being honest, those weren’t the sounds he expected to hear after being stabbed in the back. As a religious sceptic, he didn’t really expect to hear anything after he’d died (or at least he hoped not- dying was about the only way he could see himself having a rest at this point), but right now his existence seemed to be one defied set of expectations after another.

Still trapped somewhere in the limbo between being unconscious and awake, in his mind’s eye he could see the memory of his death like it was still happening- the exhilaration of staring up into Byleth’s eyes contrasting with the sick sensation of _something_ being embedded in his back. It had knocked the breath out of his lungs in a way that rendered him utterly powerless to do anything but internally scream at the blade that was now nestled next to his spine. The pain was one thing, but the distinct violation of having something cold and metal buried in the warm flesh of his back was something that was going to haunt him for a very long time.

Still though, being dead must have some perks, since he could no longer feel any sort of pain beyond regular bangs and scrapes he had acquired earlier in the battle. It didn’t really make sense that he would keep the pain from some injuries and not others, but he was far too exhausted to try and puzzle out the particulars of his demise. But he still needed to figure out where he was- no matter how tired he was, his instincts wouldn’t allow him to just lie there not knowing where he was or what had happened.

Despite the many appeals of simply falling back asleep, he forced himself to open his eyes and figure out what exactly had happened to him.

In his drowsy state it took a few seconds for Yuri to work out where he was. He was lying in the back of a wooden cart, which wasn’t unexpected given the sounds he’d heard earlier. What he hadn’t been expecting was for the cart to be right in the middle of the same group of Mockingbirds and mercenaries he’d ridden out from Garreg Mach with. That couldn’t be right- could it? He didn’t quite know what he had been expecting- maybe some kind of last-minute fever dream before he died? But nothing in his surroundings seemed out of the ordinary at all. Was he still alive?

The cart lurched and wobbled along the path, the uneven ride making it impossible for Yuri not to notice the distinct lack of a wound- or any sign there had ever been a wound- between his shoulder blades. No pain at all, no sensation of numbness to indicate anything had been treated. It just felt…normal.

Struggling up onto his elbows, he could make out the rest of their force as they travelled- east, he noted, according to the position of the sun. Presumably back along the road towards Garreg Mach. Lying on his back also meant that he hadn’t noticed the other occupant of the cart- a tall figure that had been covered in one of the good sheets they’d saved for medical use, eerily similar to a burial shroud. He watched it remain absolutely still for a few moments.

Then, with hands shaking- from physical weakness or something else, he couldn’t tell- he pulled down the blanket from the person’s head.

It was him. Yuri’s breath came to him in deep, heaving breaths that still didn’t seem to bring enough oxygen into his system. Next to him was Byleth, lying motionless underneath the cloth that had been draped over him. For a minute or so, all he could do was watch him, the man he had so quickly come to associate with the very definition of power, now limp and vulnerable and that terrifying shade of deathly white. What had _happened_ to him? To both of them? Reaching out across the space between them with two fingers, ready to look for any sign of a pulse, he cursed himself for getting so attached to the mercenary in such a short space of time.

“Don’t worry, as bad as he looks, things aren’t _that_ dire.”

Like a guilty child caught raiding the pantry, Yuri instantly brought his hand back to his chest as he looked over at whoever had spoken. Sat at the front of the cart, next to the driver, was Balthus. Yuri hadn’t even noticed their presence the whole time he’d been awake. Balthus’s voice was relatively upbeat, but Yuri was willing to bet that the majority of that was put on for his benefit; he had never seen shadows so dark under his friend’s eyes. There was an assortment of bandages and bruises scattered all over his face and torso.

“Balthus, what happened to him? I can’t- I don’t-” the questions that he wanted to ask had all come to the forefront of his mind in a tidal wave of confusion and emotion, and he had to stop for a second to sort through his warring thoughts.

Thankfully, Balthus seemed to know what he wanted to say. “Hey, don’t worry about it- it’s not surprising you don’t remember much.” He paused for a moment to climb up into the back of the cart and gingerly lowered himself to sit next to Yuri, taking care to favour one leg as he did. “He’s gonna be alright, the healers have checked him over and there’s nothing life-threatening going on there.”

“So he’s okay?” Yuri didn’t look away from Byleth as he asked, as if the other man would disappear or hurt himself further if he did.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be fine.”

Yuri allowed himself to visibly relax at his friend’s words, leaning back against the side of the cart. “Can you run me through what happened again? I’m not too sure…” he didn’t know how he was going to finish that sentence without looking like he was crazy. Not sure why he didn’t have a knife stuck into his back?

Balthus’s eyes settled on the Byleth’s prone form, their sad glint not quite matching his carefully neutral expression. “I wasn’t there to see it, but apparently this guy was coming up behind you- almost stabbed you as well, until our new friend here put himself between you and the blade.”

“ _Byleth_ got stabbed? That’s not what…” Yuri began, but Balthus was already speaking over his interjection.

“Got him in the shoulder apparently, but he still managed to fight the guy off.” He gave a tired chuckle, despite the situation. “I’m telling you, you’ve gotta get this guy to come work with us permanently once we’re done here. Anyway, he obviously overexerted himself after all that- ended up collapsing just after we’d won- so now he’s here.”

“Oh yeah?” Yuri registered the fact that they’d actually achieved what they’d came for with a surprising nonchalance- at the moment he couldn’t care less about the Scorpions. He heard his own voice speaking, but it was like he was only a spectator to his own body as he felt some kind of numb shock begin to set in. “And tell me, what exactly happened to me after all that? I have a bit of a gap in my memory for that last bit.” The calmness in his voice was completely divorced from the panic that was bubbling up in his chest.

“Well that’s the part we’re all a bit confused on. People are saying- I didn’t see any of this myself by the way- that Byleth turned up at the end of the battle with you slung over his good shoulder before he blacked out himself.”

“People are saying I was _slung over his shoulder?_ ”

Balthus threw up his hands in a gesture of placation. “You were unconscious! Just saying.” He heaved a sigh before continuing. “We were all hoping you could tell us what happened before that, but if you can’t remember how you ended up like that, then we’re going to have to wait for the man of the hour himself to wake up.”

“Right.” Yuri’s mind was reeling. Balthus was wrong, he was sure of it- he could still feel a phantom itch along his spine where the knife should be, had seen the terror in Byleth’s eyes upon seeing Yuri’s wound- not the other way around. Besides, no matter how talented Byleth was, Yuri didn’t quite believe anyone could be stabbed in the shoulder and then carry a wounded person while fighting his way across a battlefield- it would practically be a superhuman feat. 

And yet… Now Balthus had planted the idea in his head, it had taken root like a weed under stone. He ran through the memory again, and now there were differences- now he could see the panic in Byleth’s eyes give way to determination astonishingly quickly, feel himself being thrown to the ground by strong hands and hear the yell of their enemy as his target disappeared from in front of him. The pained shout of the mercenary above him as the knife made contact with flesh, and the feeling of darkness dancing in front of his eyes as he passed out. This new memory settled into place over the top of his old one like oil on water. For a second, he was unsure how he could have ever doubted the version of events Balthus had told him.

But still, if he thought just hard enough, he could still see through the cracks to the old memory, parallel underneath the new, both joined together by the sensation of something _shattering_.

However, he kept his mouth shut for now, despite his racing heart. He had a feeling that Balthus wouldn’t know what he was talking about if he told him what he could remember, and he didn’t want to come across as damaged by the incident; he could already see the sidelong glances his friend was aiming his way when he thought he wasn’t looking. 

“Well, I hope not too many people saw that.” Yuri attempted to force out a laugh at that, but it ended up sounding more hysterical than he’d intended. “Might ruin my reputation a little if people found out I’d had to be carried off a battlefield.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to worry.” Balthus’s tone had turned more playful- _that’s it, stay on a safer subject_ \- as he replied. “Only a small total of everyone there saw you being thrown around like a sack of potatoes on the shoulders of one of the most famous mercenaries around.”

Despite his worries, Yuri had to laugh for real at that, and then winced as a pain along his ribs flared up. “Why do I have a feeling you’re never going to let me forget this?”

He cast another glance over at Byleth, still dead to the world. He’d get his answers soon enough.

* * *

It took the best part of three days for Byleth to come around.

They had almost made it the whole way back to Garreg Mach by the time Yuri got the message from one of the mercenaries’ healers. The man had apparently woken up while they were on the move and was now being properly looked over now that they had made camp for the night. For that, Yuri was glad he’d made the decision to give their forces a break rather than marching them through the night for the final section of the journey- even if he was absolutely sick of being on the road by now. He didn’t know how Byleth did it so much.

Weaving his way through the campfires that now littered their encampment, Yuri noticed that by the end of their journey, many of their men were much more integrated than they had been before. At the start, the mercenaries and Mockingbirds had each kept to themselves, but he supposed that fighting for their lives together would have made them at the very least companionable towards each other- especially now that the pressure of the battle had been lifted from their shoulders.

Some of the warriors called out to him as he passed, mostly Mockingbird, some mercenary. He raised a hand or gave a nod back, but didn’t stop; despite the fact he’d had his hands full helping direct their progress back to the monastery, Byleth’s condition had been a constant on the back of his mind and he wasn’t about to stop for some idle chit-chat now that he was awake.

At first the healers hadn’t known what to make of the man’s impromptu coma. They’d checked him over, then again, and then a third time, but no one had been able to find anything that was actually wrong with him. None of his injuries would warrant such a reaction, and there was no known disease or sickness that simply caused men to fall asleep. Finally, the tentative explanation they’d reached was that he had collapsed from exhaustion, and since no one could come up with a better answer, that was the one they’d stuck with- despite how many questions it left unanswered. There didn’t seem to be anything else that was the matter with him. Yuri had been receiving twice-daily updates about his health, and all his other injuries- including his shoulder wound- were all healing about as well as could be expected.

Reaching the medical tent, he pushed past the door-flap and instantly knew Byleth’s bedroll was the one in the far corner of the structure, placed a little further away from the rest of the patients. Even though he couldn’t actually see the inhabitant of the bed through all the confused looking healers that were crammed around it, Yuri would bet that there wasn’t another person in the tent whose condition would garner such a reaction.

As he got closer, he could now see the man through a gap in the wall of people surrounding him. He’d been propped up with a pillow and seemed to be talking to the healer closest to him while the rest huddled around the foot of his bedspace, shuffling their feet and murmuring to each other. Every few seconds Byleth would glance between the woman he was talking to and the rest of them, just a hint of discomfort in his gaze. Yuri didn’t blame him- the man probably felt like he was some kind of medical experiment right now. That thought gave Yuri pause for a second; he didn’t want to hound Byleth now that he was finally awake, but Yuri had so many questions that he was going to need answered. His duties had kept him too busy to think for the days they had been making their way back home, but there was nothing stopping his thoughts running wild at night or in his dreams.

Yuri had come to the conclusion that something strange had happened to them out on the battlefield- his layered memories were far too vivid to suggest otherwise- but that was about as far as he’d got, and he suspected he’d need Byleth’s help if he was going to slot any more of the pieces of the puzzle into place. Even without the mystery of Yuri’s altered memories, the battle had raised some worrying implications for the future that needed addressing, and while he didn’t _need_ Byleth’s help to deal with them, it felt would be wrong to take important decisions on the matter of the Scorpions without Byleth’s knowledge of the possible ramifications for him.

But then, jolted from his thoughts by the feeling of someone’s eyes on him, he looked up to meet Byleth’s gaze. There was a strange intensity there, a kind of recognition that something had changed between them, but there was also a vulnerability in the mix of tiredness and guilt etched into his face. Maybe he was projecting too much, but Yuri was very familiar with the look of someone who had secrets they desperately wished they could tell. He saw it every time he looked in the mirror. 

Yuri wanted answers _so badly_ , but seeing Byleth like this… he couldn’t really justify it. Not until he’d recovered at least.

Then the look disappeared, the man’s iron control over his emotions appearing to return in full force. Now he wore a look of half-amused exasperation, as if the moment they’d shared before was just another false memory of Yuri’s. ‘ _Get over here_ ’, his eyes seemed to say, shifting to look at the healers around him ‘ _before I end up doing something I regret to these people_ ’.

Despite shaking his head slightly at the mercenary’s impatience, Yuri did just that, and Byleth turned and said something to the men and women that might have been a polite dismissal, judging by the way they all turned to look at Yuri and then made themselves scarce in an almost guilty manner.

Coming to a stop at Byleth’s bedside, Yuri lowered himself to sit on the ground beside him, purposefully avoiding meeting the other man’s eyes as they tracked his movements, clinging to every visible cut and bruise and stiff movement like it was Yuri whose health had been a cause for concern the past few days and not the other way around.

They were both silent for a few seconds. Yuri had so much he wanted to say, but none of it seemed to fit right in the moment, until eventually it was Byleth who spoke first.

“Thanks for coming over, Yuri.” The use of his name felt oddly formal, yet affectionate at the same time.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments as Yuri struggled to find the right words to say.

“I think we’ve got a lot to talk about.”


End file.
